Winter of Discontent
by Morgaine2005
Summary: It's been six months since the the Great Thaw, and things have been going well, at least until Hans gets sent back from the Southern Isles for punishment. A delegation from Weselton isn't helping. Now Elsa is beginning to find that maybe the peace in her kingdom might be no more stable than ice over the fjord as she faces her first test as Queen. ElsaXOC plus some Kristanna.
1. The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway

**Author's Note: So this is the first fanfiction I've ever written by myself and uploaded. I've been working on this story for about 2 months and I think it's time to start sharing. Read, review, let me know what you think!**

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Chapter 1: The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway

Elsa stood on her balcony and breathed deep. There was work to be done – papers to be signed, orders to be reviewed, diplomatic missives to be read – but just for this moment, she was putting it off.

She closed her eyes to breathe in the majestic scents of winter; then she opened them again. Rosen, the capital city of Arendelle, lay secure and peaceful, blanketed under a pristine layer of white snow. Gentle flakes floated on the breeze. She extended one hand and a few flakes danced over to it, swirling and waltzing around her fingers.

It was a miracle she could look at any of this without shuddering.

But six months had passed since her coronation, and if anything in Arendelle could be counted as normal, "snow in December" was near the top of the list. At least it would be a mild winter. She would see to that. It was the least she could do … after.

She shuddered and drew her fur cape closer around her. The cold might not bother her, but memories … memories were another story.

Her fingers stroked the soft fur. She told herself that she only wore the capes and cloaks and warm clothing because it unnerved people to see her walking outdoors in indoor clothing in this kind of weather. But there was a part of her that reveled in the beauty of the fur under her fingers and in all the other materials: velvet and wool, silk and satin. Her ice dress had been stunning, but she had learned quickly that she had nothing on a trained fashion expert. Her Yule dress …

Elsa came to herself and shook her head. She'd spent enough time woolgathering. The sun was setting over Rosen, and in the gabled cottages and shops below, candles were flickering into light one by one. If she wanted to be done by dinner, she needed to get back to work now. She turned back into her study, her cape sweeping behind her.

It was the work of a moment to light the lamp on her desk and sit back down again. Elsa rubbed the bridge of her nose as she tried to remember where she had been. Ah yes – Treasurer Akselsen's latest financial report. Elsa forced her mind to focus as she read through the dense lines of figures and the cautious speculations below.

It was apparently beyond Akselsen's powers to write plainly or make a confident prediction, but the numbers didn't lie. Elsa breathed out a sigh of relief. This report contained the final tabulations from the harvest and the autumn trading season. It would hardly be a banner year, and cutting off trade with Weselton might not have been the best move from a financial perspective, but her people would not starve. They would have enough to get them through the winter, and they would be in a good enough position, come spring, to start again. Elsa leaned back and massaged her temples. She'd ask Gerda to add a splash of vodka to her hot chocolate at dinner. This was worth a celebration.

The report being read, she added her stamp of approval to it. Another thing to celebrate – this was the second-to-last report she had to read tonight! With any luck, this last one wouldn't take her long, and then she could go down to supper with Anna and Olaf without any—

_Oh._

The last report wasn't a report at all. It was a letter, addressed directly to her.

Below the address was the anchor seal of the Southern Isles.

_Son of a—_Too many years of a prim and proper upbringing made it difficult for Elsa to swear, even in the confines of her own head. Although if she had a tongue like Anna's (who had spent a week getting to know the sailors at the docks and had come back with a whole new vocabulary), she could have probably come up with enough creative epithets for Hans to have a few to spare for all twelve of his brothers.

… Now that she thought of it, Anna _had_ come up with enough epithets for all thirteen of the Princes of the Southern Isles. That was how Elsa had come to learn the breadth of her new vocabulary.

Elsa stared at the letter, as if doing so would make it disappear. She had been plenty merciful with the Southern Isles, hadn't she? She'd sent Hans back unharmed, hadn't she? She could have cut off trade as she'd done with Weselton; she could have started a war. Was it too much to ask in return that they simply leave her alone?

But politics didn't work like that. And putting off this letter would do her no good. If there was anything she had learned from the events of the past summer, it was that running from her problems never solved anything. With a sigh, she reached for her letter opener to pop the seal.

Yet if there was something else she should have learned from last summer, it was that all the good intentions in the world were no guard against things going wrong. It was something she ought to have remembered as a brisk rat-a-tat-tat sounded on the door, followed by, "Elsa!" and the door swinging open.

Elsa barely had time to shove the letter under the blotter before her sister spilled into the room. Their open-door policy may have undergone some revisions since the summer, mostly concerning the sanctity of the bedroom and bathing rooms, but she had sworn she would never close her door on her sister again – at least, not while she was fully clothed.

"Elsa!" Anna called again, all bouncing pigtails and bubbling spirits. "There you are! I was wondering—_Elsa_!"

"What?" Elsa asked, wondering what was so important that it required calling her name three times.

"You let the fire go out! Again!" Anna skipped over to the fireplace, her hand reaching for the matches kept on the mantelpiece. "_I'm_ going to start needing to wear gloves all the time if you keep this up," she grumbled, or got as close as Anna ever did get to grumbling.

"I'm sorry," Elsa murmured. "I didn't even notice …"

"You probably left the balcony door open again, didn't you? Honestly Elsa, I'm supposed to be the irresponsible one, but if you can't even close a door behind you …"

Elsa's eyes slid to the balcony door. It was open just a crack, but a quick burst of cold air fixed that.

Not well enough, because the wind stirred Anna's skirts and she looked up. Her eyes went from the door to Elsa and back again; then her face scrunched up like a gray old schoolmarm who had just bitten into a lemon.

Elsa couldn't help it. She giggled. And that was all it took for Anna's laugh to ring through the room like a bell.

"What would you do without me, Elsa?" Anna shook her head.

Elsa stopped giggling.

"Oh, don't _look_ at me like that! We're together forever, right? That's what we promised! And _I'm_ going to keep my promise – just like Princess Rapunzel!"

"Indeed," Elsa replied. She watched as Anna sparked the flames back into life. She could start to feel the warmth chasing away the chill even now. "But what did you need?"

Anna pouted and threw herself into one of the chairs across from Elsa's desk. She was the only one allowed to sit like that: sideways, her back resting against one armrest, her feet hanging off the other. Though whether anyone else would dare to sit like that in the presence of the Snow Queen was perhaps the more relevant question. "Why do you assume I need something?"

"I …" Elsa stopped.

"I mean, _maybe_ I just wanted to see my favorite big sister, who's been holed up in meetings all day …"

"I …" Elsa's eyes dropped to the blotter. "There's a lot to be done before Yule."

"Oh, stop looking like that!" Elsa blinked and looked up. And there was Anna, smiling at her with the full force of the summer sun. "I was only _teasing_; you'd think you were never teased in your life!"

Elsa smiled. "Touché."

"Thanks! Anyway …" Anna stopped, her lips twisting in her nervousness. "Erm …"

"Yes?"

"I um … well …" She twisted her hands, and under the table, Elsa felt her hands start to do the same. "The reason I came up here was—well—I finally figured out what I wanted to ask you for Yule …"

Elsa's hands stopped twisting. "For Yule?"

Anna nodded, her face lighting up so that her freckles shone in all their splendor.

"Anna …" Elsa massaged a temple. "Yule is in _two days_ …"

"Oh! Oh, it's not something you have to buy!" Anna laughed. "You don't have to worry about that! No, it's just – well – I want a day."

Elsa blinked. "A day?" _A holiday? A celebration in her honor?_ She wondered. Well, Anna was probably overdue for one. If Anna hadn't come after her, might she still not be in her ice palace, her kingdom of isolation?

"A day with you," Anna clarified. "I mean—look, don't get me wrong, where we are now, it's _ages_ better than where we were before, and I know we're both trying, but you're so busy and I _know_ you have to be, but I just want one day – just one day! – where it's just you and me, and no affairs of state, and no meetings, and no spending half the afternoon locked up with a ream of paperwork, and … and that's what I want!" Anna finished.

_Only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart._ Her heart must have hardened again when she wasn't paying attention, for Elsa felt something grow warm in her chest. "That … that's what you want? A day … with me?"

Anna nodded. She wore that expression of perfect hope and fear that matched exactly the expression Elsa had imagined for her all those years knocking at her door.

"Anna …" Elsa stood and crossed to the door, one hand over her mouth, trying to blink away what felt like tears. Her heart wasn't the only thing that was melting today …

"… Elsa?"

_Think!_ Railed the voice of common sense. _Think!_

She blinked again. Maybe …

"How about tomorrow?" she asked, turning around.

Anna's jaw fell. "Wait – _tomorrow_? Tomorrow tomorrow? As in the day it'll be when it stops being today? The sun'll come out tomorrow – _that_ tomorrow?"

"Er—yes." Elsa spread her hands in apology. "It's just – all the councilors have the day off, so they can return to their families for Yule, and no government business is conducted, and—"

Anna squealed and launched herself at Elsa, who barely had time to brace for impact before her little sister landed in her arms. "Yes! Yes, tomorrow's fine! Oh, I'm so excited! This is going to be the awesomest – awesome – that ever awesomed!"

"I'm glad you think so," Elsa chuckled, patting her sister on the back. "And I suppose …" she mused, "since you won't be needing the _other_ Yule present I bought you …"

Anna stopped jumping around to glare at Elsa.

"I can just eat all that chocolate myself."

"What? _Elsa!_ You wouldn't dare!"

Elsa laughed. "See if you can stop me, little sister!" And without another word, the Queen of Arendelle detached herself from the Princess of Arendelle, who chased her laughing all the way down to dinner.

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**Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you're so inclined!**


	2. Do You Want to Build a Snowman?

**Wow! I've already got a review and three followers. That was approximately one more review and three more followers than I was expecting for a first chapter.**

**Anyway, this chapter is twice as long as the last one, and it has a bunch of OCs I hope you all will like. This will be a very OC-heavy story, so I hope you're into that kind of thing.**

**Thank you, reviews and followers! Enjoy!**

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Chapter 2: Do You Want to Build a Snowman?

"Now, let's see, what are we going to do? Oh, I know! We can hit the town!"

Elsa smiled to herself as she put the last few pins into her French braid, wondering how many plans Anna would create and discard before the finished.

"We can see Jorgen's chocolate shop, and then we can see what new boots are in at the shoe store, and once we're done with that we can go try out some new lutes – I want to pick up some sheet music for Kristoff anyway – and then we can get some lunch at the pastry shop and—oh, damn!"

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Oh, damn?"

"Nobody's going to leave us alone if we go into town!" Anna sighed and flopped onto Elsa's bed. "It'll be, 'Oh, Princess Anna, can I kiss your hand? Oh, Queen Elsa, my neighbor's cow wandered into my garden and ate everything! Oh, Princess Anna, kiss my baby!'"

That made Elsa blink and turn from where she had been sitting at her vanity. "Kiss their _baby_?"

"You would be amazed," Anna sighed at the canopy, "just how many people want me to kiss their babies."

Elsa chuckled and turned back to the mirror. Just one more pin to go. "Maybe it's because you have such cute chubby cheeks. They can't pinch your cheeks, so they try to get you to pinch the baby's."

"Hey! You have the same cheeks!"

"Yours have freckles. They're cuter."

"Ugh. Am I forever destined to be only known as the cute one?"

Elsa laughed. "Yes."

"Argh!"

Elsa shook her head as she headed to her wardrobe. She would definitely need a cloak if their adventure for today was going to include going outside (as it doubtless would). The question was, which one to _wear_ …

"… Hey, Elsa?"

"Hmm?" Elsa asked. She reached for a dark teal, woolen cloak. This would go well with her outfit. And she could wear the crocus brooch left to her by her mother.

"Do you want to build a snowman?"

Elsa froze. _Do you want to build a snowman …_

How many parts of her wanted to scream, _YES!_ as she never had a chance to, all those years? And why, now, after Anna knew about her powers again, after Anna _enjoyed_ her powers, after she had enough control to make a hundred snowmen without hurting Anna or anyone else, ever again, why did her mind insist on throwing up roadblocks?

But practicality overruled. "Anna, the servants have to get the ballroom ready for tomorrow—"

"ELSA!" A pillow flopping into the back of Elsa's head gave a hint to Anna's mood. "It's December! We can build a snowman outside!" Then Anna giggled. "Maybe you can make Olaf a girlfriend …"

"Oh, no," Elsa chuckled, picking up the pillow. "That's the last thing we need. But—yes, let's start by building a snowman. In the courtyard."

"Sounds good, sis!" Anna bounced off the bed. "Let me just grab my –"

"Anna?"

Anna turned around. "What?"

"Heads up!" The last thing she saw before the pillow hit Anna's face was that perfect expression of surprise.

* * *

"_Oof!_" Elsa ducked behind the snow fortification she'd built, or tried to. She had the powers of ice and snow at her command; she could create a palace of ice out of nothing; she could create _life_ …

But her sister had wicked aim, and even a Snow Queen was likely to be discomfited after a snowball hit her in the face.

"She's down! Get her, kids!"

_Oh no!_ Elsa ducked and meant it this time. Of course no sooner had they started building their snowman (christened Olaf II by Anna) had a group of children clustered around to see Elsa do something magical. Children had loved playing in the castle courtyard since the gates had been opened – it was a wide open space, perfect for hopscotch, tag, and all manner of games. Elsa had given orders that as long as the children weren't in the way and weren't likely to be hurt, they were to be allowed to play in peace.

Of course, she had never considered that her sister would use the children as an army in a snowball war …

A volley of snowballs sailed over her head. Elsa pulled her knees close to her chest and watched them splat onto the bare cobblestones.

_All right, Anna, if that's the way you want to play …_ Elsa grinned.

She put a hand against her snow fort and let the picture form in her mind.

Right now her snow fort was typical of its kind: misshapen, lumpy, and put together in the space of five minutes. It wouldn't be that way for long. It grew at least another foot, spouting crenellations, battlements and towers. She even devised miniature flags of snow to wave in the breeze.

"… Princess Anna, are we in trouble?" asked a small voice.

"Trouble?" Anna laughed nervously. "What's that? I don't even know what trouble is, and I'm sure that trouble could never come from my sister … my wonderful sister who loves me very much …"

Elsa hid a mischievous smile behind her hand as the battlements sprouted cannons. The scale wasn't right – the cannons were far larger than they ought to be for a snow castle of this size – but they had to be big enough to fit their ammunition.

"My dearest, darlingest sister who would never hurt a child?" Anna tried again.

_Too late, sister dear._ Elsa laughed – and the first snow-cannon fired its volley.

"IT'S AN ATTACK! TAKE COVER, KIDS!"

Elsa fell to her side, clutching her stomach in laughter, as she listened to the kids – and Anna – yelp and squeal as they tried to avoid the endlessly firing snow cannons and the snowballs that issued from each of them.

The racket she – and they – were making was loud enough that Elsa didn't hear the familiar voice calling, "Your Majesty! Queen Elsa! Your Majes—oof!"

Elsa's eyes went wide and she stood up. "Kai!"

The beloved family retainer stood before Elsa's snow fort, attempting to wipe the snow from his own teal cloak. "Oh, Kai!" Elsa scrambled from behind the snow fort, the cannons having stopped firing from the moment she heard Kai's voice. She tried to wipe the snow off for him. "I'm so sorry – I didn't know you were here! You weren't hurt, were you?"

Kai chuckled. "Your Majesty, I think I have enough padding to withstand quite a few more where that came from. And …" His eyes grew far away. "It's good to see you and the Princess having fun again."

Elsa grinned and ducked her head. Then the grin vanished. "Kai … I gave orders …"

It wasn't that her orders had been disobeyed that bothered her. For her orders weren't that she and her sister were not to be disturbed under any circumstances. They were that she and her sister were not to be disturbed unless absolutely necessary. And Kai was very, very good at following her orders.

"I know, Your Majesty. But …" Kai glanced sidelong to where Anna was standing with a group of no less than half-a-dozen children flanking her. Kai leaned closer and whispered into Elsa's ear.

Elsa gasped.

"I thought you would want to know," Kai said apologetically.

"I know—I know," Elsa murmured. She looked to Anna, stricken—

She rushed over and gave her sister a hug. "I have to go. But—but hopefully this won't take long."

"But … but our day …" Anna murmured.

"We _will_ have a day together," Elsa promised. "But—trust me, Anna, I will explain everything to you once I …" _Know what's going on myself._ "Once I have things sorted out."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "You promise?"

"Yes," Elsa said. She kissed her sister on both cheeks. "I promise. I'll explain – hopefully before the day is out."

Anna nodded, but not without disappointment. She turned away. Elsa winced. She knew that pose …

This time there wasn't any help for it. At least that was what she told herself. She turned back to Kai and hurried to his side.

Kai led the way back into the castle. "Send for the Council," she murmured out of the side of her mouth. "Those still in Rosen, anyway."

"I already have, Your Majesty."

"You're a godsend, Kai."

"Not at all." Once they were inside, out of the glare of the people, he patted her on the shoulder. "I simply think ahead." Then, quietly, "Have courage, Your Majesty. You've faced down worse."

Elsa shook her head. Right now, it didn't feel like it. But there was work to be done.

And as her feet flew up the stairs and down the hall to her study, all she could think was, _Why, why didn't I read that letter when I had a chance?_

* * *

"… so, in short," Elsa threw the letter onto the long council table, "it seems that Hans of the Southern Isles is here again."

"At least he's in chains this time," pointed out Casper, Jarl of the Western March and Wielder of the Queen's Sword. That was the official title. He seemed determined to live up to it, too, by the way he liked to poke at everything and how it took a miniature blizzard in the Council chamber to convince him that _no_, Elsa would _not_ be creating an army of killer snowmen and using them to conquer the continent. "And likely to stay that way, I hope!"

For once Elsa was in no mood to argue with Jarl Casper's belligerence. "He will certainly not be allowed to roam freely." She rubbed her forehead. "His brother, King Albin, writes that he has been stripped of his lands and titles … and …"

_Delivered to you for justice._ Those words might as well have been burned into the page. They had certainly seemed to rise up and burn their way into her brain.

Elsa's heart had been beating fast ever since she had read the letter, and with every moment, she could feel the temperature of the room drop a little more. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe deep. _Think of Anna. Think of Anna …_

But thinking of Anna did not help. All she could think of was Anna throwing herself in front of Hans's sword and freezing solid.

Elsa leaned back in her chair, eyes closed. Bottling her emotions did no good; she had learned that the hardest of hard ways. Thinking of love, now, only made her more upset. So the alternative … was to feel it, and ride the wave of the emotion, and then let it be drawn out to sea so she could think again.

_WHY is he HERE?_

The letter held no answers. It was a diplomatic missive, full of careful language couched to appear to tell all while in fact saying nothing. Why would King Albin send his youngest brother to the court of the women whom he had tried to kill, in chains – couldn't he understand that he was risking his brother's life? What was he—

_What if he doesn't care?_

Elsa's eyes flew open. She noticed her councilors shivering slightly and drawing their heavy shirts and jackets closer to them. Elsa took a deep breath. She had to keep in control. She would not – she _would not_ – allow Hans of the Southern Isles to allow her to plunge her kingdom into heaven-knew-what yet again.

_You love your people, your sister, too much to allow that to happen._

Strange – thinking of Anna just made the fear and anger swirl around inside of her. But thinking of Arendelle? That was a rock of solid love, something she could cling to and let the storm subside. And subside it did. The room seemed to warm in response.

"I apologize," Elsa said, "for my … upset." The councilors looked at the table, ceiling, each other – anywhere but at her. "But now we need to think. Surely King Albin is no fool. He had to know … Hans tried to kill me, tried to kill my sister, and tried to usurp the throne of Arendelle. And now he sends him _back_? Without his title? Without his rank to protect him?" Elsa's nails began to click against the table. "What he did … it could be punishable by death."

"Maybe that's the point," replied Chancellor Tennfjord.

Elsa stared at the gray-haired matron.

The Chancellor shrugged and began to straighten her papers before her. One never saw Chancellor Tennfjord without her sheaf of papers, fitting, as the post of chancellor was originally that of the keeper of the records. "We received notice of old King Christian's death two months ago, did we not? King Albin has not been on the throne long. He's not married and has no heir … except for twelve rapacious younger brothers snapping at his heels."

Elsa blinked. "We—we do not know they are rapacious …" But that was a weak protest, a child's protest, and she knew it.

"I wouldn't doubt it. It's not often that a royal family has children as well-adjusted as you and the Princess, Your Majesty," Chancellor Tennfjord pointed out. While Elsa struggled to imagine in what world her and Anna's relationship could be called "well-adjusted," the Chancellor went on. "And let us not forget – much as we might like to – how close Hans came to succeeding. He had nearly every one of us in this room dancing to his tune." The Chancellor peered over her spectacles to glare at each one of the councilors in the room, sparing only Elsa.

_Though why should she spare me? I was ready to let him kill me …_

"If _I_ were in King Albin's position, feeling the crown resting unsteady on my head, and knowing that I had at least one younger brother with a nimble mind that came _this close_ to gaining a throne, I should like to put as much distance between myself and my brother as possible. And this way? He seems to his people to be a man of justice – allowing not even his younger brother to escape the consequences of his misdeeds – while sending a sharp warning to the other eleven of them." Chancellor Tennfjord shrugged. "Honestly, it isn't a bad plan, as far as I can see. We can quibble with the mortality of it, but it's certainly effective."

"… So King Albin wants me to be his … executioner," Elsa murmured.

"Legally speaking, he'd have no right to pursue the crimes Hans committed himself," Chancellor Tennfjord pointed out. "At least, other than stripping him of his titles and exiling him – which he has done. If he were to kill him himself, he might risk his people calling him a tyrant."

Elsa stared at the intricate rosemaling carved on the table top, hugging her hands close to her stomach. This was as close as she got to being bothered by cold. "What … what do I owe King Albin, that I should be his executioner?"

"It's hardly a question of owe—" Chancellor Tennfjord stopped, blinking at Elsa. If Elsa could have looked at her, she would have seen the older woman's calculating expression being replaced by one of alarm and concern. "Your Majesty, are you all right?"

"Of course she is not all right!" snapped kindly Bishop Elias, the man who had crowned her all those months ago. "My goodness, Gudrun, will you look at the poor child? You are talking so casually of taking the young man's life – do you not think that any young woman with a shred of moral fiber would not balk at the idea? Your Majesty," Bishop Elias reached for Elsa's hand and held it in both of his, "do not feel forced into anything. Just because King Albin had a plan – which, may I point out, is _entirely_ speculative at this point – does not mean we have to follow it."

"Hans of the Southern Isles tried to kill my sister," Elsa said hollowly. "And he tried to seize the throne of Arendelle."

"And he tried to kill _you_, too." The Bishop squeezed her hand.

Elsa shook her head. Sometimes that seemed like the least of Hans's crimes.

Silence reigned over the council table. Chancellor Tennfjord coughed. "Your Majesty – no one is suggesting that you kill Hans out of hand –"

"And why not?" asked Jarl Casper. "If what he did wasn't treason, what was it?"

"Shush, you – though if you must know, it is because killing is an irreversible act, and hardly the sort of thing one ought to do lightly, without considering all of the ramifications and potential consequences," Chancellor Tennfjord snapped.

"To say nothing of the moral question," the Archbishop pointed out.

Elsa had no doubt that if she looked up, she would see Chancellor Tennfjord's nose twitching like a rabbit's – that was how she often reacted when the Bishop brought up the morality of anything. Soon enough, she heard the Chancellor's sniff. It almost made her smile.

But there was thinking to be done. Elsa withdrew her hand from the Bishop's, stood, and began to pace. The other councilors said nothing. In the six months since Elsa had become crowned, they had become accustomed to her need to think while in motion.

_The ramifications and potential consequences …_

Did the ugly pit in her stomach that opened up at the thought of killing Hans count as a potential consequence?

_Don't be the monster they fear you are!_

Six months later those words still rang in her head. Why couldn't she just let it go? Hans had never said anything unless it would be to his ultimate benefit. If he said it, it was to make it easier for him to capture her while still looking like the hero who did everything he could to save her.

_The monster they fear you are …_

Did her people still fear her to be a monster? Did they still remember Hans as the one who kept them safe and warm during the winter she had created with her powers? Would killing Hans confirm to all of them that she truly was a monster at heart?

And what would Anna say?

"Your Majesty," said Chancellor Tennfjord. Elsa stopped pacing. Had the room grown cold again? She hadn't noticed a difference, but that meant nothing. "I don't think you ought to make a decision on Hans's fate right this moment. At the very least, the entire Council should meet and give their advice."

Elsa straightened and glanced at the Bishop and Jarl Casper. Both were nodding. If those two were agreeing on anything, it had to be right.

But that still left the question of what to do with Hans _now_ …

"Has Hans been moved from his ship yet?" Elsa asked.

"No," answered Jarl Casper. "I gave strict orders that no removal was to occur until you had given your word."

"Thank you," Elsa murmured. "Then …" She rubbed her temple. "At nightfall, have him removed from his ship and brought to the prison. Don't be obviously secretive about it, but try to keep it quiet all the same." She had no idea how her people would react to Hans's return, and it was probably better for everyone that they did not know he was back until he was safely locked away. "Chancellor Tennfjord, if I could trouble you …"

The Chancellor's eyebrows rose.

"Please prepare a statement to be released to the _Rosen Times_. Keep it to the bare minimum – simply state that Hans of the Southern Isles has been returned to the kingdom on the orders of his brother and that the Queen and Council are still deliberating as to his fate. Please do not send that statement until Hans has been transferred to the prison."

"Your Majesty, are you sure—"

"Yes," Elsa interrupted. "Keeping secrets from my people has seldom led anywhere I wish to go again."

The Chancellor sighed. "As you wish …" Then, without warning, she chuckled. "Though I must say, Master Hummel will probably be wondering what he did to merit such a thoughtful Yule present from you."

Thinking of the tenacious editor of the _Rosen Times_, Elsa cracked a smile. "If he asks, tell him it's for every editorial against me he didn't write."

Too soon, however, the smile was gone. "Now, my lady … gentlemen … I believe this meeting ought to be adjourned. And I …"

_Need to speak with my sister._

* * *

"He's _back_? Why? What did we ever do to deserve THAT?"

Elsa should have guessed that was how Anna would react. "It's … complicated …"

"Why? We sent him back! With a black eye!" Anna pointed out. "We did everything short of stick a 'Return to Sender' stamp on his forehead! How much clearer can we have been that we don't want him anymore?"

"Anna …" Elsa sighed and sank onto her bed. They were having this conversation in her bedroom, because it was the one place they could be assured of complete privacy. "I don't think King Albin much cared how we would feel about it. He was simply … solving a problem."

"And who died and made us his problem-solvers?" Anna huffed and bounced onto the bed beside Elsa. "If anything, he owes us at least a couple dozen problems solved!"

"I'll drink to that," Elsa murmured.

"Only if you're sharing," Anna shot back. "Seriously, Elsa … what are we supposed to do with him?"

"He is – or will be, once night falls – in prison." It was easier to focus on the short-term, the specifics. "You won't have to see him or go near him. I promise."

"I suppose that's a relief," Anna muttered in a tone of voice that suggested it wasn't. "But … what was King Albin expecting that we do with him?"

If being less than honest with her people had been less than good, what had being less than honest with Anna led to? Elsa closed her eyes. "I think he expected us to kill him."

Silence. Then … "What?"

"Try … try to see it from King Albin's perspective." And it frightened Elsa – more than just about anything – that she was able to. "Think of what Hans did here, with … with, well …" She opened her hand and let a few snowflakes dance above it. "Me. He had to change his plans every five minutes, Anna – and look how close he came to winning himself a throne. Imagine what he could do if he was in a kingdom he knew, without having to deal with … me."

Elsa dared to look up to find a pale-faced, wide-eyed Anna staring at her. "So … so Hans was a threat? So King Albin just …"

"That's our best guess," Elsa replied. "Who knows, though? I can't imagine how complicated court politics are in the Southern Isles …"

"With thirteen princes – no, now twelve – well, technically eleven …" Anna flopped backward. "Holy crap."

"Hear, hear," Elsa murmured, and flopped back to join her sister.

They both stared at the canopy in silence.

"… Elsa?"

Elsa turned to Anna.

"What are we gonna do?"

Elsa turned away. Her canopy was decorated with embroidery of white snowflakes, forever frozen in time. Staring at them made as much sense as anything else.

"… Do you want to build a snowman?" Anna whispered, as she would, when she had run out of other things to say.

Elsa had spent too many years answering that question with silence. She reached across the bed, found her sister's hand, and squeezed it.

"I do."

* * *

**Review and follow if you have the time! See you next chapter!**


	3. For the First Time in Forever

**Thank you for the follows, faves, and reviews! I'll be honest and say that this chapter is a little bit on the fluffy side, though it does have what I consider to be some important character development. So I hope this chapter won't disappoint. :)**

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Chapter 3: For the First Time in Forever

"ELSA! Elsa, wake up! It's YULE MORNING!"

Elsa slowly opened her eyes. Something round (more or less) and white – with a dab of orange – was only inches away from her face. She would go cross-eyed if she tried to focus. "… Olaf?"

"Isn't it FANTASTIC? It's almost as good as summer! But you have to wake up, Elsa, wake up and come see!"

Elsa groaned and rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's … uh …" Olaf grabbed the clock from her bedside table before Elsa could determine the answer for herself. "Um … which hand is the hour hand again?" Olaf looked up, his one tooth on full display in a nervous grin.

Elsa held out her hand without a word. Olaf sheepishly handed the clock over.

Seven-thirty in the morning. Of course. Elsa glanced at the large windows. Dawn wouldn't even consider paying a visit to Arendelle for another two hours. Elsa yawned.

How long had she slept? She had eventually stopped staring at the clock, because watching the second hand tick the time away had only made her feel more anxious. It couldn't have been long. She had tossed and turned for what felt like hours, knowing that Hans of the Southern Isles was once again in Rosen, locked in the same prison that had held her for a time.

She hoped it would hold Hans better than it had her.

"Oh, Elsa, look, look! It's _snowing_! Isn't that the perfect for Yule morning?" Olaf spun and grinned again at her.

Elsa looked. It was snowing. For once this made everything seem right with the world.

"Are you the first one up?" Elsa asked, patting the sheets beside her in a mute invitation for Olaf to join her.

"I guess?" Olaf turned around and put his hand near his mouth. "I mean … I don't really sleep …"

Yes, they had all found that out, hadn't they? Barely a week after his creation, Olaf had needed a stern talking-to about how it was not appropriate to attempt to ride a bike, fail miserably, and crash into a suit of armor when everyone else in the castle had gone to sleep. Elsa now wasn't entirely certain how Olaf kept himself occupied during nighttime hours – and she felt guilty for it – but whatever he did, he at least did it quietly.

"But Anna's up, too! She sent me to come get you! She said she was sick of waiting!"

"Of course," Elsa chuckled. Anna liked her sleep, but there was still one day a year she could be trusted to wake up at what others would consider to be a reasonable hour.

Too bad that _this_ Yule had to have such a cloud hanging over it …

_Bah!_ Elsa pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She wasn't going to let Hans ruin Yule for her. He'd done enough of a job on the previous day, the day she was supposed to have with her sister. Today – today was _hers_.

Besides, she couldn't keep Anna waiting. Still yawning, she slipped her feet into the slippers she kept close to the bed and took her royal blue dressing gown from its hook.

"Elsa? Why are you tired?" asked Olaf, bounding over to her.

"I …" Elsa stuck her hand out; Olaf grasped it in his. "Where's Anna?"

"The parlor! She said you'd know which one!"

Oh, yes. Elsa would know. She smiled and hurried from her bedroom, Olaf skipping and dancing alongside her.

_The_ parlor. The one decked in fir branches, holly and mistletoe. The one where they had spent every Yule together since she and Anna were children. Yule was one of the few days Elsa allowed herself to let her guard down, at least at first. But watching Anna's face crumble when the day after Yule came was too hard, so she eventually stopped. And after their parents died … Yule had been awkward, stilted, as the sisters tried to reach across the endless gulf that had formed between them, and largely failed. Or rather, as Anna tried to reach across, and Elsa fended her off.

Those days were over. Now, for the first time in forever, they'd have a proper Yule again. Elsa was skipping almost as much as Olaf when she finally reached the parlor and threw open the door.

She almost shut it and bolted back to her room. _Kristoff_ was standing there! And she was _still in her pajamas!_

But that wasn't what made her squeal out loud. "Sven?!"

The reindeer looked up from the carrot he was chewing on (not Olaf's nose, thankfully) and shot her a toothy grin.

"Elsa!" Anna jumped up – she was still in her pajamas and a dressing gown, too, and her hair looking like a whole flock of starlings had made their nest in it – and ran to her, hugging her. "Happy Yule!"

"Happy …" Elsa tried to hug her sister while glancing askance at Kristoff. At least Kristoff looked as awkward and embarrassed as she felt. She hadn't planned for her sister's boyfriend to see her in her pajamas until … well, ever, if she was being honest with herself.

_You're being a fool. He saw you in your ice dress, and that showed more skin!_

In order to distract herself, she said, "Anna … there's an animal in the parlor."

"Huh?" asked Kristoff, getting up and looking around. Sven looked around, too.

Anna, meanwhile, elbowed Elsa. "Elsa! He's _family_! Family always has a place around the Yule fire." Anna jerked her thumb to the roaring blaze in the fireplace.

_Family …_ She wondered what their parents would have said to that.

But first things first. "Olaf?" Elsa snapped her fingers and his personal flurry appeared around him again, just in case. "Stay away from the fire."

"Yes, ma'am!" Olaf tried to stand to attention (difficult, his proportions were all wrong) and saluted. Elsa smiled and shook her head. He'd been spending too much time following Jarl Casper around and watching him drill the troops.

And second things second. "Anna—happy Yule." A kiss for her sister, then over to Kristoff. "The same to you, too, Kristoff."

"Same here—uh—Elsa." He still stumbled calling her by her given name in private, and in public, the best that could be coaxed from him was, "Your mumblemumblemumble …"

What a difference from Hans. What a pleasant difference, too.

"And you too, Sven." Elsa patted the reindeer on the head, and he edged a little closer to her, nuzzling her.

Amazing. For many years she had kept herself aloof from animals; they seemed to sense that something was off about her and kept their distance, too. But Sven had accepted her from the first. Strange how that worked out.

"Great! Now that we're here, now that everything is sorted out …" Anna threw herself down by the fire. "Presents!"

"How old are you, five?" asked Kristoff, dropping to the ground beside Anna.

"One day a year," Anna replied. "If you don't become a five-year-old again on Yule, you might as well be dead. Now come on!" She grabbed one of the packages and tossed it on Kristoff's lap. "You first! And Elsa!" Anna patted the ground beside her. "Come on! Sit down, stay a while."

While Elsa picked her way across the floor and slowly sat, Kristoff raised an eyebrow at Anna. With a shake of his head and a small smile, he began – carefully – to take the cloth wrapping off the package. Elsa leaned a little closer. Anna had been uncommonly secretive about her gifts, and Elsa couldn't help it – anything her little sister was _not_ talking about was bound to pique her curiosity.

However, when Kristoff opened the package, he and Elsa – for once – had the same expression. "… Handkerchiefs?" Kristoff asked.

"_Monogrammed_ handkerchiefs," Anna giggled.

"Uh … thank you?"

Anna giggled again, falling back and leaning on Elsa.

Elsa realized that she was ever going to find out what was going on with the gift – to say nothing of whether Kristoff would find out – she was going to have to ask. "Why … handkerchiefs?" Elsa asked.

Anna giggled again. "Because he's a bit of a fixer-upper – and the first thing I'm fixing is his _diet_!"

Kristoff's eyes went wide, then he smiled a tad smugly. "All men do it."

"Not you, Master Bjorgman! Not anymore!"

Elsa watched the two of them with her head tilted to one side, at least until Olaf tugged on her sleeve. "Elsa?" he whispered, loudly enough that everyone else could hear.

"Hmm?"

"Do you know what they're talking about?"

Elsa shook her head. "I have no idea."

"Anyway!" Anna said. "That was the joke gift! Now here's the real one!" She grabbed a much bigger box and hefted it into Kristoff's lap.

"Oof!" he gasped, in a much higher register than normal.

After that, any pretense of politely and quietly exchanging gifts was pretty much gone.

When she and Anna had been little, the parlor had been filled with tens of presents – dozens – hundreds! Or so it had always felt to Elsa. But eventually, one outgrew the desire for a doll castle staffed with individually wrapped dolls, or a miniature tea set, or a bicycle built for two. By the time their parents had died, the presents had decreased in number but increased and richness. And in the last few years, she and Anna had exchanged one gift apiece along with a stiff thank-you.

Not this year. True, the haul was nothing compared to what two little princesses might get, growing up – but Anna certainly saw nothing to complain about in the beautifully crafted chocolate sleigh complete with white chocolate reindeer or the pair of intricately worked leather boots she got from Elsa. The ermine-trimmed cape of royal blue velvet studded with snowflakes make of tiny crystals that Anna gave to Elsa was similarly a hit. Olaf loved the pair of glasses with smoky lenses ("For summer!") he got from Anna, and the gift from Elsa – a postcard from the seaside city of Bodilsand, complete with a promise that they would be taking a two-week holiday there once summer came, nearly made him fall apart in glee. Sven happily munched one of the carrots Anna had given to him. As for Kristoff, after he opened up the set of intricate and perfectly balanced ice-carving knives that were his real gift from Anna, he simply handed Anna a necklace and a pair of earrings made of strange, glowing crystals.

Then he turned to Elsa. "Um … Elsa …"

Elsa smiled, ready to put him at his ease about not having gotten her anything.

Kristoff reached behind him and pulled over a box, the last one remaining unwrapped. "It's not much, but – but, well, I'm not going to lie, my life has kind of … completely turned around in the past six months …" He glanced at Anna, eyes crinkling and face softening. "And, well, none of it would have happened without you, so … here." He passed the box over to Elsa.

Elsa gasped. "Kristoff, you didn't have to –"

"I wanted to," Kristoff replied. "Because you—look, you're a queen, and your sister is a princess, and you—you didn't have to welcome me, is what I'm saying. So—well, I just hope you like it."

"But … Kristoff …"

"Oh, just open it!" Anna interrupted. "I can't wait to see your face!"

Elsa raised one eyebrow and then glanced at Kristoff, whom she suspected was the closest she would get to a partner in sanity.

"I hope you'll like it," was all Kristoff would say, smiling sheepishly.

Slowly, Elsa pulled away the ribbon and wrapping cloth. A carved wooden box sat in her lap. She lifted the lid …

"Oh … oh my …"

"You like it?" Anna asked, crowding closer to Elsa as she pulled the gift slowly from the box, hands trembling so much that she feared she would drop it.

What she lifted up was a perfectly carved, perfectly rendered replica of her ice palace. The only difference was that this was made of glass. But this castle caught the light from the fire and glowed, just as her ice castle had in the sunlight.

"I … I don't know what to say … it's …" Elsa held it up to the light. "It's beautiful …"

Anna nudged her, but gently, probably sensing that one wrong move and Elsa could very well drop the carving. "You could try thank you."

"Thank—thank you, Kristoff. I—thank you. For everything." Gently, slowly, she put the glass carving back in the box. It would be going on her desk in her study first thing.

"It's nothing," Kristoff replied, shrugging. "One of the glaziers and I – we were practicing near each other for the ice-sculpture contest next month – and, well, let's just say that he lost a bet."

Elsa chuckled. Anna hid her mouth behind her hand and laughed, suggesting there was more to the story and that Elsa wouldn't be hearing it any time soon.

"Now, Kristoff, as for your present …" Elsa began.

"Oh, it's no big deal," Kristoff said. It was, after all, painfully obvious that there were no boxes left in the room. "I mean, the whole official Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer thing, that's enough for a –"

Elsa held up her her hand. "It's outside," she said.

"—lifetime – wait, what?"

"We can see it as soon as we're dressed—"

"As soon as we're dressed, are you nuts? Elsa!" Anna was already pulling on her new boots. "If Yule morning isn't the one morning we can all go outside in our pajamas to see the goodies, what morning _is_?"

Of course she would say that. She knew all about the gift; Elsa couldn't have managed it without her connivance. "Come on!" Anna grabbed Kristoff's arm and pulled him bodily to his feet. "Now I want to see _your_ face!"

And Elsa, realizing that she had lost, simply shook her head and followed along, Olaf and Sven trailing in their wake as they hurried through the corridors of the castle.

Anna was the one who threw the double doors open, letting the pre-dawn light spill in. "Ta-da!" she called, flinging her arm out toward the courtyard. "Happy Yule, Kristoff!"

"What—" Elsa was standing at just the right angle to see his jaw fall. "New _runners_?" He ran out to his sleigh, which had been brought into the courtyard the night before on Elsa's orders. Sven galloped behind him. "_Vossen_ runners? Are you serious?" In a moment he was on his hands and knees, exclaiming over the runners, while Sven jumped up and down behind him.

"Well, that's a relief," Anna murmured. "I was half afraid the sleigh dealer just said he changed the runners and didn't actually do it."

"You too?" Elsa asked.

"Yup," Anna nodded. "I _still_ don't see a difference between these runners and the old ones."

"Hear, hear."

Elsa followed Anna down the steps, closer to Kristoff. She got there just in time to hear Kristoff shouting, "And Elsa, if you weren't my girlfriend's sister, I—I could _kiss_ you!"

"Hey! You're only allowed to kiss me!" Anna laughed.

"I have a better idea!" Olaf called out. "GROUP HUG!"

Elsa would never understand how it was that such a little snowman could manage to maneuver a burly ice harvester, a snow queen, Anna, and a reindeer into a group hug. But somehow he did. And as dawn finally broke over the castle walls, flooding the courtyard with golden light, Elsa grinned and let herself go.

For the first time in forever, she was having a truly happy Yule.

For the first time in forever, she had a family again.

For the first time in forever, all was right with the world.

* * *

Of course, it couldn't last.

Reality intruded at the Yule banquet, or rather at the tail end of it. As it was the first Yule banquet of Elsa's official reign, she had throughout the supper been more concerned with being a gracious hostess, making polite conversation with her guests, and not accidentally freezing anything to worry much about what was to happen … after. But there were traditions in Arendelle, and as Queen, it was Elsa's duty to uphold them. So when Kai tapped her shoulder at the end of the banquet and wordlessly held out her cloak (a different one from the one that Anna had given her that morning), Elsa swallowed but nodded.

Anna had her cup of mead (well-watered down on Elsa's orders) halfway to her lips, but paused. "Elsa?"

Elsa merely smiled, small and tight. After so many years where that was the only smile allowed to her, it was still the one that came easiest in times of stress. "Duty calls."

Then she turned to her own goblet, lifted it, and tapped her fork against it once. "Friends and countrymen!" she said to the suddenly-hushed banquet hall. "At this time of year, it is customary not only that we remember our blessings, but that we remember those who are not as blessed as we. It is the duty of those of us who are fortunate to do what we can to spread our good fortune to those who are not. And so, as Queen, I go now to spread some Yuletide cheer," she lifted her goblet meaningfully, "to some of the least, the lowliest, and the most forgotten about in our land. But though I must leave you, my friends, I hope you will enjoy the rest of the banquet!"

Polite applause was the response to her speech, and Elsa smiled stiffly through it. It wasn't the same type of uproarious applause her father would get at the end of this same Yule speech, but Elsa was not her father. Maybe in time, she would grow to be half as beloved and respected as he had been, and then she would be a lucky Queen indeed.

When the applause died away, Elsa followed Kai outside and into the waiting sleigh. Kai himself slipped into the driver's seat, and two guards hopped onto the back.

The drive was short even in the crowds of market day; on Yule Night, with the streets deserted, it was over before Elsa could think of any small talk. At least Kai didn't seem to mind. In fact, when they pulled up to their destination, all he did was shoot her a fond smile and whisper, "Have courage, Your Majesty."

Elsa looked up at the closed gates before her and shivered. _Have courage_ – yes, there was a part of her that would need it.

The gates opened, and Kai drove up to the steps of the building within. Three men were standing at the top of the stairs. All were dressed in dark teal uniforms that marked them as guards in the employ of the royal house of Arendelle, though the uniforms of two of them were less decorated and elaborate than those of the guards serving the royal house directly. The third man had a uniform even more elaborate, and it was he who hurried down the steps and helped Elsa from the sleigh.

"My queen!" As soon as Elsa was out and steady on her feet (not difficult, she couldn't remember the last time that she had slipped or faltered on snow or ice), the man dropped to his knees. "We are greatly honored by your visit! A happy Yule to you!"

"Master Gulbrandsen, please, arise – and it is I who should be thanking you. I am greatly pleased that you are allowing me to resume our … holiday tradition."

"No, no, Your Majesty – the honor is all ours, I assure you." Master Gulbrandsen hurried to his feet, smiling almost as widely as Olaf. "The prisoners have looked forward to your visit all day."

_The prisoners._ Elsa did not shudder. She didn't judge – how could she? She had been a prisoner in this same prison, albeit not for long. But something like a chill stole over her. Still, she kept her smile in place, and nodded graciously as she had seen her mother do a thousand times. "Then let us not keep them waiting."

Master Gulbrandsen beamed, and before he thought better of it, extended his arm to Elsa. Elsa put her arm through his just as he blanched and moved to take it away. "In—indeed, Your Majesty, let us!"

They went inside.

It had been tradition in Arendelle since time immemorial that on Yule Night, the monarch him- or herself would bring a cup of mead to all the prisoners. It had probably been a much easier tradition in the old days, when Arendelle was little more than the village that surrounded the palace and the prisoners were usually only a couple of men in the castle dungeons. Now Rosen Prison had more than its share of prisoners, men and women awaiting trial and punishment for various offenses, and there were other prisons in the other cities throughout Arendelle.

Some traditions, however, were worth keeping, even if they had to be modified to suit the changing times. Elsa only visited Rosen Prison, as her father and grandfather had before her. Throughout the kingdom, the governors of provinces and mayors of cities acted in her stead. It was as close as they could get to the olden days.

Elsa moved from one cell to the next, the guards following with a barrel of mead and small clay cups. She had heard that in the old days, this used to be a time when prisoners would ask for mercy. Few of them spoke to her tonight. There would not have been time for lengthy conversations. Even though she said little more than, "Here you go," "Enjoy," or "Happy Yule," to the prisoners, it still took the better part of two hours to go through the prison.

Except … she hadn't seen all the prison …

They were almost to the door again, Master Gulbrandsen thanking her profusely for her time, when Elsa stopped. "Wait." She drew her red cloak a little closer around her, the gesture coming automatically. "We—we did not see Hans of the Southern Isles."

Master Gulbrandsen and Kai both froze. Elsa saw their eyes go to each other in a kind of panic.

"Master Gulbrandsen?"

"Er—Hans Westerguard is – well –" Master Gulbrandsen shot a panicked glance at Kai.

"Your Majesty," Kai asked, "is it truly necessary that we see him?"

_Is it truly necessary?_ There was the open door, escape, standing before her …

But running from her problems had gotten her nowhere in the past. Elsa drew herself to her full height and turned to the guard rolling the mead-barrel. "Is there enough mead left for another prisoner?"

"Yes—yes, Your Majesty!" stammered the guard.

Elsa turned back to Master Gulbrandsen. "Please take me to him."

He didn't argue. Nor did Kai. Master Gulbrandsen led her without a word to …

_Of course._

She recognized that door. There were not one, but two guardsmen standing directly outside of it. Both stood stiffly to attention when Elsa came near.

She took a cup from the guard, wiped it clean with her handkerchief, and held it out to the other guard carrying the mead-barrel. He filled it without a word. Elsa turned to the two at the door. "If you would?"

The guards looked at each other, then at Master Gulbrandsen. Master Gulbrandsen pushed forward apologetically, his keys jingling as his hands appeared to tremble. But soon the door was open.

Elsa stepped inside.

It was dark in here, darker than in the corridor. Elsa's eyes did not immediately adjust. She felt the ice growing with in her, and for once she did not seek to send it down, or try to thaw it with love. It could not hurt to be prepared –

"So the queen of ice and snow pays a visit to the lowly prisoner?"

Elsa turned. Hans was sitting – lying – on the bench. Near him were the two blasted manacles he had used to imprison her. Apparently they had never been replaced, though luckily the wall had been fixed. "Hans."

She could see better now, and the first thing she noted was that Hans was as handsome as ever. True, he wasn't as well-groomed – his mutton chops had grown straggly, and hair was beginning to creep over his chin and upper lip as well. He was not dressed as a Prince of the Southern Isles, either. Someone had garbed him in a prisoner's uniform.

But his eyes were still that lambent green, and when he smiled, Elsa could understand a little of what Anna had seen in him. There was something about him, seeming so at ease, at home, even in a blasted cell that had last held a witch.

How strange everything was, especially considering what had happened the last time they met in this cell …

Elsa took a deep breath and held out the cup of mead. "Happy Yule."

"The same to you …" Hans reached forward to take the cup. His fingers brushed Elsa's. It was all she could do not to recoil. "Your Majesty."

Elsa nodded without a word.

Hans slowly brought the cup to his lips and just as slowly sipped. He smacked his lips. "Cinnamon?" he asked.

It would be rude not to answer. "It is Yule."

"Indeed." He sipped again. "I am surprised that the Princesses – sorry, Princess and _Queen_ of Arendelle do not flavor their mead with chocolate."

If anyone else had said that, Elsa would have smiled, maybe even laughed, and pointed out that doing that would probably ensure that Anna would want mead at every meal. As it was, she sniffed and looked away.

Hans did not take that lightly. He put the cup down carefully on the floor, leaned closer, and asked, "Why are you here, Queen Elsa?"

"It is tradition –"

"No. It can't be." Elsa's eyes flashed as she turned to Hans. "Oh, don't misunderstand me, Your Majesty." He leaned back, languid and at ease, as if he were resting on a luxurious couch instead of a prison bench. "Tradition may well be why you're in the prison. But it doesn't explain what you're doing _here_," he gestured around him, "in _this_ cell."

_You owe him no answer,_ Elsa's better sense scolded her. _He tried to kill Anna! And you!_

But staying silent felt too much like surrender. Too often Hans had had the last word. "It is tradition, on Yule Night, that the King or Queen of Arendelle brings a cup of mead to all the prisoners. _All_ the prisoners," Elsa emphasized. "No matter what her … personal feelings may be concerning any of them."

"How adorable," Hans replied with a snort of derision. "The little frost witch still trying to be a good queen."

Elsa folded her hands before her and nodded toward the cup. "Are you almost finished with that?"

"In a moment …" He took another sip. "In a moment." He smacked his lips and sighed. "It's been a long time since I had a vintage as good as this. In fact …" He took another sip. "It may have last been at your coronation …"

Elsa felt her teeth clench, and the frost itched to burst through her fingertips and freeze this man to the bench. Or worse. She took a deep breath. A clay cup wasn't worth putting up with this. "Then enjoy it at your leisure." She nodded, as graciously as she could, and swept out of the cell with every ounce of regal insouciance that she could muster.

Was it just her, or were the guards as eager to close the cell door behind her as she was to hear it close?

But the cell door could not block out sound. "Happy Yule, Queen Elsa!" The words were followed by a hollow laugh. "May you experience all the joys the season brings to the virtuous!"

Elsa did not wince. Thirteen years of icy self-control had served her well. But perhaps something showed in her eyes when she looked up and saw Kai.

"Your Majesty." He extended his arm to her. "It's growing late. I feel it may be best for you to return home."

Elsa took his arm and let him lead her from the prison.

* * *

That night, Elsa dreamed she was back in her ice palace.

The palace was as quiet and beautiful as she remembered. The ice glowed blue and purple in the moonlight. The only difference was that it seemed smaller, or perhaps she felt bigger.

She glided silently through the corridors, watching the colors on the walls shift and change with every step. She looked into the dining room she had made for herself, then the parlor, then up the stairs to the bedroom. The bed still lay precisely as she had made it. The base and headboard were of solid ice, while a downy mattress of pure snow offered the perfect combination of softness and support. Atop the mattress lay a blue blanket of the same icy material as her dress, and matching curtains hung from the sides.

She stared at the bed for a long moment. Then she looked up.

She had no proper windows in her bedchamber, only two enormous double doors glazed with the thinnest ice that gave way to a balcony. Slowly she moved toward the doors. They opened at her smallest touch, and Elsa moved out onto the balcony.

The stars were so clear here. She had noticed that on her first night. There was no light from a nearby city to drown them out. There were no reams of paperwork that called her away from her balcony into the stuffy study. There were no meetings in the morning to give her a reason to be early to bed. She could stay out and watch the stars all night if she chose.

Scarcely daring to move or breathe, that was precisely what she did. The stars whirled in their silent dance, and Elsa felt strangely honored that she was allowed to be their observer. She watched the Bear circle Polaris all night, stalking the star like prey that it could never quite catch. Draco in turn chased the bear. Orion and his dog watched the hunt from the sidelines. Perseus held up the head of Medusa so that she could see the fun, too.

At some point – time moved strangely in the dream – a shooting star blazed across the night sky. Elsa silently tracked its progress from the northeast quadrant of the sky to the far horizon, where it disappeared in a brilliant flash.

If she were awake, someone would have told her to make a wish. But here in the dream, in the ice palace, there was no need.

For the first time in forever, there was only peace.

* * *

**Stay tuned for next time! Keep following & reviewing if you're so inclined!**


	4. Be the Good Girl You Always Have to Be

**Many thanks to my faithful reviewers, Replica Velocity and KP009! I always look forward to your words of encouragement. Thank you to all of the readers who are following and favoriting, as well – I love knowing that I'm producing something people are enjoying!**

**But enough from me, on with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 4: Be the Good Girl You Always Have to Be

Two days after Yule and Elsa was back in her study, hard at work. There was a stack of reports on her desk a foot high. Elsa leaned back in her comfortable desk chair and picked the first one off the top.

The work of the kingdom had to go on, even as the problem of Hans gnawed and wormed its way through the back of her mind. Today the most pressing duty was sorting out these reports. The new year was five days away. It was tradition that a few worthy prisoners would be pardoned that day, given a second chance to make something of their lives. Elsa couldn't help but let a little smile poke at the corner of her lip. Her people were giving her a second chance. Part of her thrilled at being able to grant so many others a second chance, too.

Her eyes fell on the first line of the report. _Nora Helmer vs. Regina_. Elsa blinked. A woman? That was unusual—

Someone knocked at her door. "Yes?" she asked, replacing the report on the top of the pile.

In came Bishop Elias, Jarl Casper scowling at his heels. "Your Majesty," the Bishop began.

"It's an outrage!" snapped Jarl Casper. "Will those damned—pardon me—_blasted_ weasels never leave us alone?"

Elsa blinked. She turned to the Bishop, though she had a sneaking suspicion where this might be going. "Don't tell me …"

The Bishop sighed and nodded. "I fear it is true, Your Majesty. Another delegation from _Weselton_," he glared at Jarl Casper, "has indeed arrived."

Elsa shook her head. "This is the third since October. What can they possibly hope to accomplish this time?"

"Perhaps the back of my sword will convince them that they shan't talk you around!" Jarl Casper raised his fist. "Your Majesty, say the word and I shall gather my best men and chase these ruffians—"

"No!" Elsa interrupted. "I am sorry, my lord, but – _no_. Refusing entry to their delegation would be tantamount to starting a war."

"But—"

"I did not declare war six months ago. I have no intention of doing so now." Elsa took a deep breath. "Bishop …"

"There—forgive my interruption, but there is something else, Your Majesty. I have already received a copy of their credentials in advance in Minister Falk's stead." Elsa nodded; with Foreign Minister Falk being out of the city to visit his family for the holiday, all diplomatic communication went through the Bishop. "I think you ought to see this before you decide whether to accept it formally." Without another word, he drew a letter, marked with the broken seal of Weselton, and passed it to Elsa.

Elsa opened the letter. She didn't see at first what had the Bishop so alarmed. The letter was boilerplate, simply giving the name of the ambassador, the number and description of his retinue, etc., etc. It wasn't until she got to the bottom, where the Duke's signature and seal ought to be, that she gasped.

"The Duke didn't sign this!"

"It's perfectly legal," the Bishop assured her. Elsa continued to stare at the not one, but three signatures at the bottom of the letter. "If those three men – the Speaker of the Riksdag, the Prime Minister, and the Duke's heir presumptive – have signed it, that means that …"

"That?" Elsa asked.

The Bishop swallowed. "It means that Weselton is in a constitutional crisis. They have impeached the Duke, and they are attempting to destroy his authority."

The credential fell from Elsa's unfeeling hand. "You mean – they are attempting to overthrow him?"

"Not … exactly … the Duke would still remain Duke of Weselton. But he would have no political power, no authority." The Bishop began to chew his bottom lip. "It's very complicated."

"And with Minister Falk away …" Elsa began to tap her nails against the desk.

"We may wish to wait until he returns …" the Bishop began hopefully.

Elsa shook her head. The delegation would have no official status until she officially accepted their credentials, and with the mood in Rosen as volatile as it was thanks to the return of Hans, she did not wish for the delegates to be in the city without the protection of diplomatic immunity. Another scandal was the last thing she needed. "No. I will question the diplomats today. If … if I can accept their letter of credence, then all will be well and good. If not, I will ask them to leave the city until Minister Falk returns."

Jarl Casper's scowl deepened, but the Bishop nodded. "Very good, Your Majesty. Shall I have them conveyed to the throne room at once?"

"No. Give me an hour, please." Elsa glanced down at her simple blue gown, perfect and comfortable for a morning spent behind her desk, but not at all suitable for an official audience. She fingered her braid as well. "Make that an hour and a half."

Somewhat to her surprise, the Bishop chuckled. "Indeed. I ought to have thought of that." He gestured to his own plain black suit, a far cry from the ceremonial vestments more appropriate to a meeting such as this. "I shall convey your message to the diplomats. Will that be all, Your Majesty?"

"Yes. Thank you, very kindly, both of you."

The Jarl bowed stiffly, and the Bishop shot her one last kind smile before exiting the study.

Elsa sighed and stared at the papers atop her desk. That would have to wait. She had to send for Anna; she had to center herself; she had to somehow make sense of that official credential before the diplomats arrived. And she'd have to make the throne room ready, too …

Best to get started now. She pulled the bell to summon Kai, and then, after a moment's hesitation, summoned what she still thought of, after five months, as the "new bell pull."

Because she would need to do something with her hair. And her dress. And quite possibly her makeup. And for that … she'd need a little help.

* * *

"So … why are we set-dressing, again?"

Anna stood by the throne, absently twisting one ring around her finger. She'd barely had time to change into a jade-green satin gown formal enough to be worn to greet an ambassador. Her cheeks were still red from having run to the throne room.

Elsa took a deep breath and adjusted her own gown. She looked to the walls, the columns, then to the ceiling and finally the "chandelier." She'd ordered that lamp put in shortly after returning home and thawing Arendelle. All that hung from the ceiling was a plain wrought iron skeleton of a chandelier, holding candles and nothing else. It was a chance to be creative. Plus, this way, none of the servants had to spend hours on a ladder dusting hundreds of teardrops of glass.

Elsa closed her eyes and concentrated.

Ice spread throughout the room. Not on the floor – she had no desire to send the ambassador onto his diplomatic rear – but the walls, the columns, even the ceilings started to grow their own icy accoutrements. Crocuses of ice appeared onto every blank space of the walls. Blue leafy vines wrapped their way around the columns. And with nothing more than a slight tinkle, hundreds of tiny snowflakes of ice, each one unique, sprouted from the chandelier.

Elsa opened her eyes, giving a critical glance at the chandelier. It certainly wasn't her best work, but …

"Oh. I get it now."

Elsa looked at her sister.

Anna managed a small smile. She flipped her strawberry-blonde hair – not plaited now, simply pulled back in a half-tail – over her shoulder. "You're being the Snow Queen."

Elsa pulled her fur cloak more tightly around herself. Perhaps she was laying it on a bit thick. The white gown with the tiered skirt, the white fur around the collar and cuffs, and her carefully chosen jewelry – a silver circlet with an aquamarine snowflake hanging on her forehead, complete with a matching pendant and earrings – did send an unmistakable message. She took a deep breath, patting the buns of carefully braided and coiled hair by her ears. "You don't think it's too much?"

"Odin's beard, no," Anna snorted. "You show those weasels who's boss!"

"Anna." Elsa swept up to the throne, which had gained a six-pointed snowflake growing from the back of it in her bout of redecorating. Slowly, she sat, taking care to drape her cloak partially over her lap. She had just enough room to move her arm, but that was all she needed. She tried to lean back and relax. "We have to be polite."

Anna snorted as she looked around. Elsa watched her hands move up and down her arms, or more accurately, her sleeves. "You're – you're not cold, are you?" Elsa asked.

"Nah." The word was offhand, almost unthinking – at least until Anna saw Elsa's face. "No, I mean it, Elsa. You've … you've gotten good at this."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." For good measure, Anna stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes. Elsa laughed, the sound making the snowflakes (ice-flakes?) on the chandelier tinkle and dance.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

Three knocks. That was the prescribed signal. Elsa glanced once at Anna, for courage, then she took a deep breath.

They had had much practice at this since this summer, she, Anna, Jarl Casper, the Bishop and Minister Falk as well. When Elsa was meeting with the delegation of Weselton or the Southern Isles or anyone who might bear Arendelle ill-will, she did not allow guards to open up the door, nor did she call out her permission to enter. There was no use hiding her powers now, so Elsa did not even try. Instead, she summoned a blast of winter air, and the doors opened of their own accord.

Jarl Casper was the first to enter, looking like he had bitten into a lemon. The Bishop followed, serene in his ruby-red robes. Next came …

Elsa blinked. Why did she feel like she was back in the ballroom on the night of her coronation? But there was a small man in spectacles standing before her, with a nose that seemed to dwarf the rest of his face, surrounded by much larger men. Even the uniform was the same: black shirt with gold epaulets, gray slacks, boots – it could have been the Duke of Weselton all over again.

_Except …_ This man was younger by decades. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than Elsa herself. And while his eyes were blue, like the Duke's, and his nose was the same shape of the Duke's, it was not near the same size. This young man had simply a face with a rather bulbous, large nose, not a bulbous, large nose with the rest of the face attached as an afterthought. Lastly, while he might have been short, he easily dwarfed the Duke – he was taller than Anna, perhaps as tall as Elsa.

He had also stopped short and was staring at Elsa as if something at the sight of her had frozen his brain and body both.

_Fear_, Elsa thought. It wasn't the usual expression of fear she often saw, but fear came in many guises. She folded her hands on her lap and let her chin rise regally. She nodded at Jarl Casper.

"Your Majesty," Jarl Casper began, "all me to present the delegation from the duchy of Weasel—"

A most un-ecclesiastical elbow shot toward the Jarl. "Ow!"

Instantly Elsa's eyes went to the young man, the ambassador, she was guessing. But somewhat to her surprise, he was – _smiling_? If she didn't know better, he looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh.

Then he seemed to sense her gaze. Their eyes met, and again that frozen look plastered itself onto the ambassador's face.

"Ahem." Jarl Casper coughed and barely refrained from glaring at the Bishop. "Allow me, Your Majesty, to present the delegation from the duchy of," he sighed, "Weselton. Ambassador Solberg, your credentials, please."

The young man stepped forward, nervously patting at his jacket. "Here—here—no, they're right _here_ –" Something fell out of a pocket and tinkled to the polished wooden floor. Elsa heard a choke that was probably Anna trying not to laugh out loud. "Erm, I'll get that in a minute – here!" Out of his pocket came a slightly squashed but properly sealed letter. He seemed to take a deep breath as he held it before him. "Your Majesty—"

Jarl Casper stuck a hand in the Ambassador's way. But before he could say anything, the Bishop plucked the letter from the young Ambassador's hand. "Thank you, Ambassador. I shall take this from here." He suited the action to the word and brought the letter to Elsa.

Elsa made a show of slowly removing the seal and reading the letter through. Anna crept closer to the throne, reading over Elsa's shoulder. Even though Elsa knew what the letter said, she found it difficult to concentrate. Not when she felt someone watching her.

She looked up, and her eyes met Ambassador Solberg's for a fraction of a second. The Ambassador hurriedly looked away, red staining his cheeks.

Such fear – it felt like a knife twisting in the gut. It was one thing to send a message about Arendelle's might … but maybe she had taken it too far …

She glanced down at the letter again.

Once she had satisfied herself that the official credentials said the same thing that the advance, courtesy copy had, Elsa let the letter rest in her lap. "I cannot help but notice that your credentials have not been signed by the Duke, Ambassador."

The Ambassador swallowed and drew himself up to his full height. Then, hurriedly, he bowed. "Er—no, Your Majesty. You see, in Weselton, we have a – a failsafe, I suppose you might call it –"

Elsa held up her hand to forestall the rest of the speech. "I understand." She had taken advantage of the time when her new lady's maid, Marte, was doing her hair to read up on this peculiarity of the government of Weselton. "That is to say, if I understand correctly, in Weselton, it is possible for the Riksdag to impeach the Duke, temporarily remove authority from him, assuming that three-quarters of the Riksdag votes in favor of it, and assuming that the Speaker of the Riksdag, the Prime Minister, and the heir to the current Duke are all in favor. Is that correct?"

The Ambassador nodded eagerly; his straight, smooth hair flopping with every movement. His hair at least was all natural and was a dark, rich brown in color. "Yes – yes, Your Majesty. So—"

Elsa held her hand up again. "However – if I understand correctly, once again – such an impeachment must be renewed every six months. And your credentials, if I read aright, expire in five." Once again, Elsa folded her hands on her lap. "Is this a coincidence?"

"No, Your Majesty." Ambassador Solberg shook his head. "However, if you will notice, they can be renewed at any point for another half-year term, assuming my fath—" He stopped, eyes going wide and mouth shutting with an audible clack.

_His father?_ Elsa let her eyes fall to the letter on her lap, specifically to the signatures. It was perhaps a shot in the dark …

But not so dark as that. Elsa soon found the name she was seeking. "Your father is Elof Solberg? Heir presumptive to the Duke of Weselton?"

The Ambassador swallowed, but he nodded. Elsa thought she heard something like a snort of derision come from Jarl Casper, but she dared not look in his direction. "Yes, Your Majesty, he is."

"So – you're saying that your father threw his own – what? Brother? Cousin? – under the sled?" asked Anna, one eyebrow going up as her arms crossed over her chest.

The Ambassador's mouth opened and shut. Behind him, the members of his retinue bristled. For a moment Elsa's heart contracted. There were guards in that retinue, guards wearing the same maroon cloaks of Weselton that the Duke's two goons had worn when they attacked her—

When they attacked her—

When she nearly killed them—

"Elsa?" Anna's voice echoed like the only sound on a still winter morning. When Elsa turned to look at her, she could see her sister's breath visible in the air.

_Love with thaw. Love will thaw!_ With a shuddering breath, she focused on the good – on the positive – and felt the bitter chill leave the room. It was only then that she dared to look again at the Ambassador's face.

She must have been imagining things. She almost thought he looked concerned.

She swallowed. "You were saying, Ambassador – about the status of your credentials?"

"Erm—er, yes, yes, I was." The Ambassador pulled at his collar. "Your Majesty – while it is true that my credentials, as of – as of now, are only good for the next five months, they can be renewed at any time for another six month term. Or – longer," he added.

Elsa allowed an eyebrow to rise. "Longer?"

The Ambassador nodded and stuck his hands behind his back. He took a deep breath. "As you no doubt already know, Your Majesty, it is possible to remove a Duke's authority permanently, should the full body of the Riksdag, the Speaker, the Prime Minister, and the Duke's heir unanimously deem it necessary."

Elsa's eyes went wide. The Bishop gasped. Jarl Casper's jaw fell. And the Ambassador gulped, but kept his gaze steady on Elsa. "Permanently," Elsa repeated.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And … what on earth could make the Riksdag decide to do that?" asked Elsa.

The Ambassador sighed. "It's – it's very complicated, Your Majesty. But … shall we just say that – that my unc—that the Duke's little … stunt last summer was not necessarily his first."

_Frigg's distaff,_ Elsa thought. _Does he make a habit of attempting to kill the crowned heads of his major trading partners?_

"Although—although believe me, Your Majesty, we all know that what the Duke did here in Arendelle last summer was by far the worst," the Ambassador hurried on to say. "But—but the fact remains …" He sighed and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "I am not sure how to say this …"

"Say it directly," Elsa replied.

Ambassador Solberg took a deep breath. "Your Majesty, when—when you come right down to it, my mission here is to ask you one question. Do you refuse to trade with _all_ of Weselton – or just the _Duke_ of Weselton? Because if it's the latter …"

The young man smiled, but he could barely meet her eyes. "Then I speak for the Riksdag, the Speaker, the Prime Minister, and my father when I say that Weselton is willing to do whatever is necessary to resume trade with _you_."

* * *

When the Ambassador had said his piece and Elsa had accepted his credentials, she sent everyone away. Even Anna. She loved her sister – she loved being closer to her – and she would discuss this with her later. But the habits of thirteen years could not be broken in six months. When Elsa needed to think, she wanted to do so alone.

She leaned her head back onto the throne and closed her eyes. The long and the short of it was that she held the Duke of Weselton's fate in the palm of her hand. If she tightened her hand, he would be crushed. Sign an agreement with Weselton to resume trade, and the Riksdag, Speaker, Prime Minister, and Duke's own heir would rip power away from him – permanently.

_But it can't be that simple._ Elsa rubbed her temple. _Why would losing trade with one country cause everyone in Weselton to turn their back on the Duke?_ Every member of the Riksdag was elected. Surely if the Duke had any kind of support, any member who voted against him would be punished when it came time to be reelected. Why was every member of the Riksdag willing to risk his political future to see the Duke ousted?

There was more to this story. Perhaps she would get some of it from the Ambassador. In any case, all she had promised to do was consider his proposal. Her whole Council would have to meet over it, argue over it, and vote on it before Elsa could even provisionally accept the idea that it might be worthwhile to open up negotiations. And once negotiations were opened, well, who knew if they would manage to come to an agreement.

The snowflakes in the chandelier tinkled together. Elsa's eyes popped open. If she couldn't come to the bottom of this right now, she could at least clean up the throne room. None of the maids were paid enough to justify forcing them to scrape ice off the walls. Not when Elsa could snap her fingers and it was done.

After all, when it came to ice or snow that she had consciously and purposefully created, "love will thaw" was not the secret to removing it. She would never be able to have a snowball fight with Anna if that were the case. When she used her powers consciously, whatever she created stayed created until she wanted it to stop being created. It was simple and as complicated at that.

Still, she cast a critical eye at her handiwork before dismissing it. The crocuses weren't so bad. Next time she'd have to experiment more with colors, see if she could get the stems a more defined green and the flowers a more defined purple. She also wondered if there was something more interesting she could do with the columns. When she had free time (ha!), she would have to go hunting through those architectural volumes in the library for ideas.

Unfortunately this woolgathering was getting her nowhere. Elsa waved her hand, sending all the ice in the room back where it had come from. The only thing that remained was the chandelier. Elsa turned to that –

The door to the hall was suddenly pushed open. "… forget my own _head_ next, I swear to—"

Elsa froze.

The man entering the room froze.

They stared at each other.

"Your – Your Majesty!" The Ambassador was the first to remember himself and bow. "My—my apologies—I thought—there weren't even any guards on the door …"

_There weren't?_ Perhaps Anna had dismissed them. But somehow that answer didn't satisfy, so Elsa filed the question away to be pursued at a later date. "Please, don't apologize." He was already evidently terrified of her, to judge by the way he couldn't hold her gaze for more than a few seconds. There was no need to make things worse. And, remembering that she was his hostess – literally, for visiting delegations always stayed in the castle – she asked, "Is there anything I can do for you? Something that you need?"

"Ah …" He grinned, a tad bashfully, and pushed his spectacles up his nose. "It's nothing. Just …" He laughed. "I lost the key to my trunk. Flew out of my pocket when I was presenting my credentials."

"Oh! Well – let me help you look … what kind of key was it? Silver, brass?" She lifted her skirt slightly, because with her luck the key had gotten caught somewhere her petticoats, looking from side to side.

"No, no, Your Majesty, I couldn't trouble …" The Ambassador stopped. Elsa watched him blink and adjust his spectacles. His eyes, she realized, were a slightly different color than the Duke's: where the Duke's were pale, lifeless blue, the Ambassador's were the color of a summer sky, warm and welcoming even when he looked puzzled. "The … ice?"

Elsa drew her cloak more tightly around herself and lifted her chin. "Yes?"

"You … you get rid of it?"

Was she going mad? Anyone else, saying anything else, and she would have called that tone disappointed.

"Er—yes." And she left it at that.

"But not the chandelier." The Ambassador smiled. He moved a little closer, craning his neck to see more clearly. "The snowflakes … they're all different?"

Why did he want to know? What difference could it possibly make? Was it just a way of gauging her power? Elsa took a deep breath, but try as she might, she could not think how revealing her decorating choices and capabilities might hurt Arendelle. "Yes."

"Remarkable," he murmured. He continued to stare at the chandelier, seemingly lost in thought, until suddenly he shook himself. "Right! The key!" He got down on his hands and knees and started to peer at the floor.

"Yes," Elsa replied. "You were saying?"

"It's brass. Small. The – the head is shaped like a starburst."

Elsa was looking, but she stopped. "A starburst?"

The Ambassador looked up with a rueful smile. "The trunk has my telescope in it. The … key wasn't my idea, but …" He shrugged, as if Elsa was supposed to somehow understand.

Elsa settled for a faint smile back. She looked around –

_There has to be an easier way._ "… Ambassador? If you wouldn't mind standing up?"

The Ambassador turned a strange look at her, but he stood without question.

Elsa sent cold air whirling along the floor. As she had hoped, the key moved with a faint metallic tinkle. "There—"

"Found it!" The Ambassador pounced on the key and pulled it up with a triumphant smile. "Thank—thank you, Your Majesty."

"You are most welcome, Ambassador." Elsa inclined her head, and the Ambassador bowed in response.

"I should probably get back to unpacking," he said with another rueful smile. He bowed once again. "Thank you again."

"You are most welcome, again, Ambassador." The Ambassador took that as a dismissal, and with another smile, he hurried toward the door.

Except something made him stop with one hand on the door and the door itself half-open. "It's—it's Nick, by the way. Niklas, technically. My given name. Er—not that we're on a first-name basis or anything, but—you know what? Forget I mentioned it …" He shook his head. "Thank—thank you, once again, Your Majesty." And before Elsa could say anything, he was gone.

Elsa was left alone in the empty throne room, wondering what in Frigg's name had just happened.

* * *

**And here comes the bad news. Because "planning ahead" is not one of my strong suits, the next update will be delayed a few days. The story is written, but we're having relatives in from out of town on my usual update night. Oh, and did I mention that I'm moving to a new place? Yeah.**

**Hopefully the next update should come sometime next week. Until then, ciao and thanks for reading!**


	5. At Least I've Got a Chance

**Hello everybody! After one heck of an exhausting weekend, I'm back! I wish I had a nice long chapter to reward you for the wait, but alas, this one's on the short side. Enjoy anyway!**

* * *

Chapter 5: At Least I've Got a Chance

Two mornings later saw Elsa at the high table in the great hall, pouring herself a cup of tea as she glanced over the morning paper. Usually she ate in the private family breakfast room, with Anna if she could be pried out of bed, or she had Gerda bring a light breakfast to her sitting room if she knew the chances of Anna being up at a decent hour were even more remote than usual. But there were guests in the castle, and as a decent hostess, it was up to Elsa to at least dine in the same room as her guests, if not at the same table.

She could feel the gazes of the Weselton delegation on her, particularly when she made herself seem more interested in her toast or tea than in anything that was going on around her. But the only one she could ever come close to catching looking at her was the Ambassador. When she did catch him, he looked away with such red-faced embarrassment that Elsa almost felt sorry for prying.

The doors opened; Elsa looked up. In came Anna, yawning as she stumbled her way to the high table. When she finally climbed up the dais and tossed herself into her usual chair, her message was brief and to the point. "Coffee."

Elsa shook her head and poured her a cup. "Good morning to you too, little sister."

"Contradiction in terms," she mumbled. "Oxen-moron. Whatever." She brought the cup to her lips and took a long swallow. "Why do mornings have to begin so early?"

Elsa chuckled and turned back to the paper. The front-page story was a follow up to yesterday's dispatch from Weselton about the impeachment of the Duke. A quick scan proved that there was nothing new, besides new speculation from unnamed sources. Poor Master Hummel must have been quite desperate for copy, given the holiday lull in newsworthy events. For a few days, between Hans's arrival and the delegations, there had been plenty to write – but now there were no new developments on either of those fronts.

She turned the page, scanning the headlines of the rest of the items in the paper. Business news – happenings from the provinces – a tragic fire. All important, but nothing that she needed to do more than read a few paragraphs of here and there. She kept flipping until she came to the editorial. A guest editorial today. Master Hummel must have run out of things to say about Hans, though how he could have run out of things to say about the Weselton delegation so soon, she wasn't sure.

The title made her blanch and nearly drop the paper.

_Bring Impeachment to Arendelle!_

She glanced sidelong at Anna. Anna's eyes had that glazed look, and she focused on her pancakes with a single-minded determination that meant that her coffee couldn't have hit yet. Elsa took a deep breath. _Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let them know._

As casually as she could – even forcing herself to take another bite of toast and a sip of tea – Elsa lifted the paper and began to read.

_Citizens of Arendelle,_ began the editorial. _In light of the events of the past twelvemonth, no reasonable man could presume to believe in the infallibility of kings. No reasonable man can wholeheartedly stake his faith on the notion that kings and queens, by virtue of their superior blood, are the chosen representative of the gods here on earth. And when we look to our neighbors, we see that a country full of reasonable men, men of business – viz., Weselton – has already come to this conclusion. I am told that the practice of impeachment in Weselton is hundreds of years old, and though it is a grave option, to only be practiced in times of dire need, it is nonetheless a ready option to be used when necessary._

_Friends, brothers, and countrymen, why is it that we do not have this option in Arendelle?_

Elsa swallowed and forced herself to read further – truly _read_ further, not just to skim and scan and, in her race to determine the content of the next paragraph, completely neglect the content of the one she was reading. She still had to read the editorial through three times before she fully understood it.

The author – "Cicero" – was not calling for _her_ impeachment. Yet. He was simply … raising the possibility that perhaps the kingdom might want to look into creating it as an option. But if anyone would be fooled by that, Elsa would be surprised. She certainly wasn't fooled. Her people – or at least a vocal subset of them – had been calling for her head six months ago. She perhaps should be grateful that they were only calling for her job now.

"Elsa? What's wrong?" Anna nudged her. "It's freezing in here."

Elsa looked up from the paper. Every eye in the room had gone to her. The breath of many hung visible in the room, a haze over the tables and pathways.

_Oh, no._ At least there weren't ice spikes coming from the walls. At least her power hadn't exploded out of her in a wave of pure icy force. At least she was still in control, more or less.

She called up the warmest, loveliest memories she had. Playing with Anna when they were children. Sitting on her papa's lap and reading a storybook, her gaze following his finger as she tried to puzzle out the words. Her mother showing her how to create her iconic twist and bun in her own hair. Ice-skating in the castle courtyard on a brilliant summer's day.

She was never sure which of them did the trick, but she did feel warmth flood back into the room as the fire roared to life again.

When she looked up, the Ambassador was staring right into her eyes. This time, it was Elsa who looked away with a fierce blush.

"Elsa?" Anna whispered. "Hey …" Anna rested her hand on Elsa's shoulder. It took a concentrated act of will to stifle the automatic urge to shake it off. "What's wrong?"

She shoved the paper over without a word.

"What the …" Anna's eyes went wide as she read. "Are they serious? Impeach _you_?"

"They didn't say that," Elsa murmured.

"Not _yet_. But – come on! The weasel tried to kill somebody before they impeached him. What have you done? I mean, other than the eternal winter, but you totally fixed that!"

Elsa ground her teeth, unable to trust herself to say anything. She wished she had taken her breakfast in her chambers. She could _feel_ the Weselton delegation staring at her, evaluating her, wondering how long they would have to deal with her, if they might be better off playing a waiting game and seeing if her successor was more reasonable.

She took a deep breath. "I should get to work." She pushed back from her chair.

"Hey!" Anna stopped her before she could rise. "Elsa, you shouldn't let this stupid … stupidity!" She grabbed the paper and rattled it. "It shouldn't bother you. It's just one moron running his mouth off. Master Hummel probably only printed it because he knew it would make people angry, and that will sell more papers. You know how he likes to sell more papers!"

"I doubt this is just one moron," Elsa murmured. _And I doubt he's that much of a moron._

"Well, _I_ don't. And more importantly, he can shoot his mouth off all he likes. We don't have impeachment here, and we won't as long as you're in charge!" Anna nodded firmly, as if her nod was all it would take to ensure that everything went according to her plan. "Hear that?" she added to the Weselton delegation at their lower table. "Queen Elsa isn't going anywhere!"

Elsa wanted to sink into the floor. "Anna …"

"What? They may as well know the score." She gave her sister an awkward one-armed hug. "We'll get through this. Like I said, this is just one moron's opinion. Now eat your breakfast like a good girl – you've got a busy day today."

"Yes, Mother," Elsa replied, which made Anna stick her tongue out. Elsa stared at her plate again, put the newspaper to the side, and told herself she _did_ have a busy day, and she _did_ need to eat.

But try as she might, she couldn't eat more than a few more bites of toast, and she disappeared into her study as soon as she could get away with it.

* * *

_How many times,_ Elsa wondered, staring at the trial notes in front of her, _have I read this same page?_

It was nearly lunchtime, and she'd barely made any headway with the pardons. She had wanted to have the list of names by the time of the Council meeting this afternoon. _That_ was beginning to seem like a distant dream. Then again, the Council would probably spend all of its time discussing the editorial in the paper this morning, or pointedly not discussing it. She was probably the only one who would notice or care that she hadn't met her own self-imposed goal.

Elsa leaned back in the desk chair, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples. What she needed was … was …

_Ice and snow on a windswept mountain – not a creature for miles – and then a palace of ice rising from the purest joy she could remember …_

A small smile crept onto Elsa's face. Her kingdom of isolation. That one day – no worries, no cares, nothing to do but create fantastic sculptures of ice and plan out how she was going to decorate every room in her palace – it had been wonderful.

And then it had all come crashing down with the arrival of Anna and her news, her paradise revealed for the fool's paradise it was. Then, as if the point needed underlining, Hans and the Weselton guards had shown up.

_Hans._ Elsa rubbed her temple again. She'd replaced one nasty set of thoughts with another. Her eyes opened.

They fell on the sculpture of her palace.

In the few days since Yule, she'd grown used to it and could pick it up without trembling – a good thing, since she felt the need to do so a few times every day. Slowly, she lifted the paperweight and cradled it. Once again, she turned it around in her hands. It caught the weak winter light, sparkling and glowing just as her palace had.

_Perfect. Perfect in every detail._ She wondered how Kristoff had done it. Had he brought the glass sculptor there to see it for himself? Or had he made drawings? If he'd made drawings, then Kristoff's talent with a pencil far outstripped his talent with the lute, though she wouldn't mention that to Anna anytime soon.

Elsa's gaze fell on the staircase that led to the palace. Her nostrils flared. Hans had managed to take out half the railing in his fight with Marshmallow as he tried to invade her palace. Perhaps she ought to blame Marshmallow, but it was much more therapeutic to blame Hans. Left to his own devices, Marshmallow wouldn't have touched the railing.

_And you're angry over the railing, which took you – what – five minutes to fix? Get a grip, Elsa._ Elsa sighed and carefully returned the sculpture to her desk. _If you're going to think about Hans, think about what to _do_ with Hans. The Council will want to hear all about that, on top of the possibility of impeachment._

Elsa shook her head and turned back to her transcripts. Hans was, as ever, a riddle wrapped in an enigma. She'd be better off reading the trial—

_Wait._

There was something – something niggling in the back of her mind.

_Kai, red-faced with fury, _shaking _as he related to her what had happened to her in her "absence," as they were charitably calling it. "And then – forgive me for having to tell this to you, Your Majesty, but you must know – he declared you guilty of treason and sentenced you to death! Without even a trial!"_

A trial. She'd thought that such a small detail, an odd one to fixate on at the time, but now that she thought more about it …

_A trial …_

Her eyes opened wide. And suddenly Elsa knew what they'd spend the Council meeting talking about.

* * *

"A … trial, Your Majesty?"

"Yes. Hans of the—Hans _Westergaard_ has been accused of serious crimes. But nothing has been proven in a court of law." Elsa folded her hands on the table before her and tried to remain calm in the face of Chancellor Tennfjord's upraised eyebrow. "It would be premature to make any more deliberations as to his fate when he is still, as a point of law, innocent until proven guilty."

The other councilors – and many more of them were here today – shifted in their seats and exchanged glances, but they were smart enough to let Chancellor Tennfjord speak first. The Chancellor, however, seemed to have little to say. "Interesting …"

"Well, I suppose that would be a good way to buy us some time," mused Jarl Casper. "While we determined what to do with him, I mean."

"No," Elsa replied. "I'm sorry, my lord, but I don't think you understand. We cannot deliberate as to his fate until he has been proven guilty of the crimes of which he stands accused. Otherwise what we would do would not be justice, but vengeance."

"But—but, Your Majesty! He tried to kill you!" Jarl Casper sputtered.

"How do you know that?" Elsa asked.

"He sentenced you to death!" gasped Bishop Elias. "We all heard –"

"How?" asked Elsa. "Were you in the room with him? Did you see or hear it for yourself?"

"But, Your Majesty," that was Minister Falk, having cut his holiday short owing to the delegation from Weselton, "you said that he tried to kill you. Princess Anna confirmed it. And so did the," he sighed, "Royal Ice Master and Deliverer."

Elsa decided to ignore the sigh for now. "Yes. We did. But until it's proven in a court of law, it's nothing more than rumors and hearsay."

A new voice entered the fray. "Actually, there's considerable precedent for summary execution for treason." In the silence that followed, the click of the Chief Justiciar Voll's knitting needles was all the more audible. However, the Chief Justiciar herself didn't seem to notice it, instead bringing the indeterminate shape of knitted wool closer to her nose. "Drat. Dropped another stitch." She kept on knitting as if this was of no consequence. "Anyway, what was I saying? Ah, yes. It's happened before. I think the most recent occurrence was … now, let me see … ah, yes! When King Olaf III slew Greve Kofod in a rage when the latter brought up a point he didn't want to hear in Council."

Elsa rubbed her nose, wondering what had possessed her eight-year-old self to name Olaf after the most bloodthirsty of her ancestors. "Madam Voll, while I understand the importance of precedent in jurisprudence … surely that's not one we want to be following?"

"Oh, good heavens, no!" One minute Madam Voll could be quoting arcane precedent from some of the bloodiest chapters of Arendelle's history, the next she was clutching her knitting to her bosom and looking like an apple-cheeked grandmother … Though as a point of fact, she _was_ an apple-cheeked grandmother, having both apple cheeks and ten little grandchildren at Elsa's last count. "But my point," the Chief Justiciar started to knit again, "is that you don't have to go through a trial if you don't want to, dear."

_Go through a trial. _What did she …

_Oh. Of course._

If there was a trial, she'd have to testify. And so would …

_Anna …_

Elsa stood and began to pace.

She hadn't thought this through, had she? The idea had hit her with such amazing clarity – such perfection – that she had seized on it as the answer to all of her problems, never realizing that it might create more problems until it was too late. At least her Council was being kind enough not to call her on it.

… _Wait a minute …_

"Madam Voll," Elsa stopped so abruptly her skirts swished around her ankles, "if the monarch has the right to sentence someone to death without a trial for treason – then was what Hans tried to do to … me legal?"

Gasps around the Council table. Madam Voll dropped her knitting.

"Good heavens, Your Majesty," Bishop Elias was the first to speak. "You can't – you can't possibly think –"

"I need to know," Elsa replied, the mask that she had worn so long and so comfortably coming back to rest on her features. "If Hans Westergaard did not commit treason, then I need to know before I attempt to charge him with it."

Every eye in the room went to Madam Voll. She swallowed and absently patted her knitting. "My poor dear … where do I _begin_ …"

_Yes or no, Madam! Please, just say yes or no!_

"His plan, from the first, was to usurp the Crown of Arendelle. That is true, isn't it? It's what Princess Anna said."

Elsa nodded.

"So there's treason right there," Madam Voll picked up her knitting again. "Next, he did lead the attack on your, er, ice palace. And then there's the whole … thing in the fjord—"

"Might it not be said that, by running away, I relinquished my authority?" Elsa interrupted. "Giving him authority for everything that followed?"

"Well, to be honest, dear, if you're serious about putting Westergaard on trial, and if he gets a half-decent lawyer, then yes, that will be said. However, you didn't go any further than the North Mountain, and the North Mountain is still well within the boundaries of the kingdom. If the monarch relinquished her powers every time she took an unscheduled trip, we'd all be in a pickle," Madam Voll replied. "Furthermore, even if you did, Anna was in the city at the time Hans gave his order. If she was in the city, she was in charge, not him. So – no legal right," Madam Voll shrugged.

Elsa nodded. A bit of tension in her that she hadn't even noticed loosened, and she took a long, slow breath.

"And besides, there's the matter of his actions toward Princess Anna," Madam Voll continued. "Even if everything he did to _you_ was legal, which I wouldn't support for a moment, there's the small fact that locking the heiress presumptive in a room, denying her needed medical care, and …" Perhaps Elsa's mask wasn't as strong as she thought it was, because Madam Voll hurried on, "And, well, all the rest – if that isn't treason …"

"So it seems that we're bound to get something to stick, so long as we throw enough at him," Chancellor Tennfjord mused.

"No," Elsa replied. "This isn't a show trial, Chancellor. We will charge Hans Westergaard with those crimes that – that the crown and government truly believes he committed. No more, no less. Beyond that—it will be for a jury to decide."

Chancellor Tennfjord pulled her glasses partially down her nose and surveyed Elsa over them. "Your Majesty, you are aware that putting his fate into the hands of twelve ordinary citizens is an incredibly risky move?"

"Yes," Elsa gulped. "But it's – what is right. I … I cannot punish him without knowing that the people of Arendelle stand behind me."

"And what will you do with him if he's found innocent?"

"Not guilty," interrupted Madam Voll. "I'm sorry, Gudrun, but there's a world of difference."

Before Elsa could think of a suitable reply, it was Minister Falk who laughed. "Ah, but that's the easiest part! She's the Queen! And _he's_ a foreign national!" He leaned back, his chair creaking a bit under his weight, wearing the biggest smile Elsa had seen on his face since he got called back from his interrupted holiday. "All she has to do is say, 'Get out!' Then she puts him on a ship, and he's gone!"

_All I have to do is say get out …_ Elsa shook her head. _No._ Hans Westergaard was a dangerous man, and dispossessed royalty besides – so doubly dangerous. What kind of person would she have to be to unleash someone like _that_ on an unsuspecting world?

_A monster …_

"So …" Elsa looked around her Council table. "Are we in accord, then, ladies and gentlemen?"

The councilors who were present looked at each other. "… We're rid of him no matter what, aren't we?" Jarl Casper asked, glancing between Madam Voll and Minister Falk.

"One way or another," Madam Voll shrugged.

"Then I say aye."

Elsa glanced from one councilor to the next. They all nodded. This wasn't her entire council, but to simply decide to _try_ Hans – it would do.

"Thank you." Elsa sank back into her seat. She took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and folded her hands on the table. "Now, ladies and gentlemen – next order of business?"

* * *

**That's all for now. Review if you like, and thank you to everyone who has reviewed, read, and favorited so far! :)**


	6. A Victim of Fear

Chapter 6: A Victim of Fear

It was nearly noon on New Year's Day. And Anna was still yawning.

Elsa was trying to sit still, trying not to fidget, trying not to stand up and begin to pace around the room. She and Anna were sitting in the red hall off the main balcony. A couple of chairs had been moved there for their convenience. Elsa was giving the notes for her speech yet another look, but it was no good. She couldn't focus on the words. It might have had something to do with the way her hands were trembling.

Just the thought of stepping out onto the balcony, with all of the people _looking_ at her, was enough to make her quake inside. The chair she was sitting in had already grown a veritable menagerie of ice sculptures around it – anything to relieve the tension, release the bottled-up power before she had to go outside.

_You'll be fine as soon as you start talking,_ she tried to tell herself. _Just … try to relax until that point._

_Besides, it's a short speech. You name the pardoned prisoners, and that's it._

Anna yawned again, and Elsa looked up. Her sister, already bundled up against the cold, was resting in an easy chair, staring dreamily at the ceiling. "Last night was the best, wasn't it?"

Elsa tried to chuckle, knew it came out sounding horribly forced, and hoped Anna would forgive her. "It was a great deal of fun."

"Who thought being a guest at a party would be almost as much fun as being the host?" Anna leaned back, resting her feet on the nearby footstool. She arched her back like a cat as she stretched. "How many parties did we crash, by the way?"

Elsa shook her head. "Technically, none. You can't crash a party you're invited to."

"… Point. But still, it was great, wasn't it? Dashing from party to party – getting to see all the people we liked best – I wonder if this is how other princesses feel all the time?"

"I doubt it," Elsa shrugged. "As much as it may look that way from the outside."

"Aww, come on, Elsa, don't pop my bubble on the first day of the year!" Unfortunately, the scolding was rendered less effective by the yawn Anna tacked on to the end of it. "But still. I say we should never host a New Year's Eve party. We should do this every year."

Elsa considered that. Even if the whirl had been exhausting, there was something to be said for not having the stresses of hosting on her shoulders. Plus, there was something also to be said for the brief rides from party to party, when it had just been her, Anna, and Kristoff in the sled. Elsa had gained many chances to lean back, catch her breath, and enjoy some time away from the pressing crush of people. She'd cast a few sidelong glances at Kristoff and guessed he might be feeling the same way.

Elsa's eyes narrowed and she looked at her sister. She wondered … had Anna planned it that way?

Anna was looking far too innocent for Elsa to assume that she was anything other than thoroughly guilty.

"I agree," she replied, softly, just as a discreet cough interrupted their conversation.

Kai stepped forward. "Your Majesty? Your Highness?" He adjusted his long, teal-green overcoat. "It's time."

"Goodie!" Anna leaped to her feet. Elsa wondered where she got the energy from. "Then it'll be lunchtime!"

Elsa rolled her eyes even as she tucked her notes into her muff. Not that she needed the muff. But it let her hold on to her notes without anyone knowing she had them with her, and somehow, just the feeling of the notes in her hand was comforting. "How do you manage to eat so much and keep your size?"

"Magic," Anna quipped. As Elsa tucked her hands into her muff, Anna linked elbows with her. "Ready, sis?"

_As ready as I'll ever be,_ Elsa thought. She nodded to Kai.

Kai opened up the glass doors and stepped outside. A blast of cold air pushed back the hair and skirts of both sisters. Anna shivered, but Elsa took a deep breath and almost smiled.

"People of Arendelle," Kai boomed, "I present to you Queen Elsa and Princess Anna!"

The cheer that followed made Anna perk up and Elsa try not to shudder. Still arm-in-arm, the sisters walked onto the balcony, where they were greeted by another cheer.

"Long live the Queen!"

"Long live Princess Anna!"

"Long live Arendelle!"

Elsa smiled. It wasn't as bright and brilliant as Anna's smile. And unlike Anna, she had no friends in the crowd to wave to. But Elsa could nod, and smile, and bow her head to show herself pleased and honored by the attention she was receiving.

Inside her muff, her hands twisted and turned around themselves, and heaven only knew what was happening to her notes.

Finally the cheers had gone on long enough, and Elsa freed one hand from her muff to raise it for silence. The people listened, and a hush spread over the castle courtyard.

"Friends and citizens of Arendelle," Elsa began. She knew how to project her voice so a crowd could hear it. Her father had taught her this skill since she was a child. _That_ wasn't the hard part. Keeping the quaver out of her voice? Keeping her head up, poised and regal, that small smile on her lips? That was the hard part. "It gives me great pleasure to stand before you and wish you the happiest of New Years!"

Another cheer. There were actually hats being thrown into the air. Anna cheered too, and while Elsa was relatively sure that wasn't protocol, she was extremely sure that seeing Anna cheer helped her to relax just a little bit.

Once again she freed the hand from her muff to signal for quiet. Once again she got it. "As we all know, the New Year is time for new beginnings. It is a time to put away the old and open ourselves up to the new. It is a time for forgiveness, and it is a time …" She took a deep breath. "It is a time for second chances!"

It wasn't meant to be an applause line, but just this once, Elsa was grateful that it drew applause. She was going off-script here, so to speak. The fact that what she was about to say was in her notes and had been rehearsed a hundred times didn't matter. It still was not by any means part of the usual program.

"But before I announce the prisoners who have been pardoned – the men and women to be granted a second chance on this day – I want to thank all of you. For giving _me_ a second chance."

This time there was no applause, only gasping. Even Anna gasped. Elsa hadn't mentioned this part of her speech to her. Possibly the only person who knew about it was Marte, and that was because she had once walked in on Elsa when she was practicing it.

"I know that none of us have forgotten the events of six months ago," Elsa swallowed. "I know that my actions … were not one that any monarch would be proud of. But you gave me a second chance to prove myself. With the help of the gods, I will not fail you." _Again._

She was too nervous to give them time to react. "And – and without further ado, let us learn the names of the others who will be given a second chance this day!" After that line she fell silent long enough to earn a ragged cheer. Perhaps the crowd was still recovering from her admission. Elsa knew that she was.

Kai handed her the list – it was purely for the sake of ceremony, she had the names memorized – and she began to read from it. "The first is Nora Helmer of Rosen, the second …"

It was tradition to not read off the crimes of the people being pardoned – it helped to make the second chance more real. Elsa continued to rattle off the names, only pausing long enough to let people cheer if they heard the name of a friend or loved one. The cheers were loud, but she didn't dare to look at any one particular face. She had pardoned a dozen people this year, but many more had family members hoping that they would be one of the lucky few.

Elsa took a deep breath, folded the list as well as she could, and handed it back to Kai. "This list has already been forwarded to the prison wardens throughout the kingdom and to the families of the pardoned. I henceforth decree that all the people named on this list are officially pardoned, their slates wiped clean, and they are ready to rejoin us!"

Another cheer. Elsa took a deep breath and allowed herself a small smile that was mostly genuine. "Thank you. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I must—"

"Wait!" The cry came from below. Elsa blinked. She could never remember a speech of her father's being interrupted like this.

It was not hard to discover who it was – someone was pushing his way through the crowd. When he finally tumbled to the forefront, Elsa could make out that he seemed to be a man in his late fifties or early sixties, of average height and with beige curls streaked with gray. His clothes hung off his frame, as if they had been made for a larger man or as if he had lost a great deal of weight in a short time. On his head was a hat that, if Elsa remembered correctly, had been the height of fashion last year, but which nearly no one was wearing this year.

The man looked up at her. His eyes were narrowed, but even at this distance Elsa could see the hard glint. "What of Prince Hans? Where is _his_ pardon?"

Gasps. And Elsa could feel Anna heating up beside her. There would be steam coming out of her ears in just a minute.

But that wasn't what concerned her most. No, what concerned her most were the teal-coated Arendelle guards, their tall kepis sticking up above the crowd, zeroing in on the man. "Halt!" Elsa glared at them. "Everyone in Arendelle is free to ask questions of the monarch. Everyone."

_Besides, what can he do to me from down there? Except shoot something, but we've all learned that I'm more than capable of defending myself from that._

She could feel the ice beginning to rise within her, but for once she did not try to tamp it down or thaw it with love. She kept it just behind her fingertips, ready, waiting … just in case.

"Your Majesty …" Kai murmured from the corner of his mouth, but Elsa shook her head at him.

She took a few steps closer to the railing and looked down. "Sir."

The man stared up at her, his hands on his hips, glaring. "Well—Your Majesty? If citizens are allowed to ask questions, they ought to get answers!"

Was it just Elsa's imagination, or was the crowd visibly edging away from him? It was most certainly not her imagination that the guards were shuffling closer. She took a deep breath and focused her gaze on the man. "To answer your questions most succinctly, it is impossible under the laws of Arendelle to pardon someone who has not yet been found guilty of any crime."

"If Prince Hans has not been found guilty of any crime, then why is he sitting in prison?" the man challenged.

In the safety of her muff, Elsa twisted her hands together. Her face, however, remained composed. "Is it not usual for individuals whom the government considers to be dangerous to be held in prison—"

"_Without trial_?" the man interrupted, glaring.

Elsa let one eyebrow rise and fall. It was a look that her father had often employed on errant Councilors and servants. It had managed to express a great deal of displeasure without saying anything that could be regretted. Whether it worked on this man or not, Elsa could not be sure. He only scowled, which could mean anything.

When she was sure he would stay silent, Elsa continued, "As I was saying, is it not customary for individuals whom the government considers to be dangerous to be held in prison _before_ trial?"

Another set of gasps from the crown. "Prince Hans is going to be tried?" called out a woman, who instantly slapped her hands over her mouth and looked mortified for having said anything.

Elsa glanced sidelong at Anna. Anna was still glaring at the man. _At least I told her,_ Elsa thought. Then she turned back to the questioning woman and said in her calmest voice, "Yes."

If she thought the cheers that had broken out in reply to her speech had been loud, they were nothing compared to the sudden volley of exclamations, shouts, and questions.

Elsa stumbled backward, if it were not for Anna steadying her, she might have tripped over her cloak and ended up on her behind. As it was, one hand shot out for the railing, which instantly and completely iced over under her grip.

More gasps. "She's doing it again!" someone cried out – Elsa couldn't see who and didn't care to look. "She's going to curse us again!"

"ENOUGH!" That was Kai. "Ladies and gentlemen, this audience is over. Any further questions or petitions can be addressed to the Queen _in writing_!" He glanced at Elsa. "Your Majesty?"

A Queen did not run from her people. Never mind that Elsa had already done so on multiple occasions. With all of the dignity she could muster, she bowed her head to the crowd, waved, and walked back into the castle with Anna. Kai walked behind them and shut the door with perhaps more force than was strictly warranted.

That was Elsa's cue to let it go. She stumbled against the easy chair she had rested in so little time ago and held onto it like it was the last thing keeping her on earth.

It turned to ice under her hands.

* * *

"What you need," Anna said some time later, tucking a heavy fur blanket around Elsa as she rested in the armchair in her bedroom, "is a nice glass of wine."

"Anna, no," Elsa shook her head.

"Come on, it'll make you feel better." Anna kissed her cheek. "You did great out there, by the way."

"I did not."

"Sure you did. Ok, maybe you were a little flustered at the end there—"

"I froze the balcony. And the chair."

"Pssh, so what? The balcony's been through worse. Remember that big hailstorm five years ago? And you thawed the chair as soon as you caught your breath." Anna grabbed the other chair and dragged it closer to Elsa's. Once again, Elsa wondered how Anna packed so much strength into such a small frame. When did her sister ever break a sweat, or even get winded? Then Anna flopped into the chair and reached for Elsa's hand. "You ok, sis?"

Elsa did not like lying to her sister. She did not like shutting her out. But at this particular moment, she didn't like the idea of telling the truth, either. So she said nothing.

"That's it, I'm getting Marte and we're getting you wine." Anna popped out of the chair and marched for the bell.

"Anna, no!" Elsa half sat up, and Anna turned to her with two raised eyebrows. "Tea. Tea instead."

"What's wrong?" Anna asked. "You drink. How many glasses of champagne did you have last night?"

Elsa shook her head. "Not when I'm upset."

"Why not?"

"It …" Elsa shuddered. "It doesn't help. Trust me."

Anna was silent. "… Ok." She put a finger against her lip and thought. "How about a full tea? Crumpets, sandwiches, the works? We can call it lunch."

"You can have lunch sent up if you like," Elsa said. "I know you're hungry."

"… You know, that might be a better idea. Much faster than making all those tiny sandwiches." Anna nodded and rang the bell.

Marte, Elsa's lady's maid, poked her head in the door before Anna could even make it back over to the chair. Marte was a little taller than Anna, blonde and blue eyed like so many Arendellians, and while her round face with its rosy cheeks and pert little nose was very pretty, it also looked worried far too often for Elsa's liking. It couldn't be easy, serving the Snow Queen. "Your Majesty? Your Highness? What can I be getting for you?"

Anna opened her mouth to speak, but Elsa sat up. "Marte, could you please have Cook send up our lunches? With some tea?" She glanced at Anna. "Would you like some wine?"

"Nah. I probably had too much champagne last night." Anna easily flopped back into the chair. "But I could go for some hot chocolate."

Marte giggled. "Oh, Your Highness, Cook knows better than to send up food without some chocolate!" Then she cast a slightly panicked glance between the sisters. "Er—that is—yes, of course, Your Majesty, Your Highness. Is there anything else I can be getting for you?"

Elsa shook her head. Marte curtsied and ducked out of the room, barely giving Elsa enough time to call, "Thank you!" after her.

As soon as the door was closed, Elsa leaned back and rubbed her temple. Anna, however, spoke first. "She's nice. I'm glad I made Gerda assign her to you." Anna gently poked Elsa's arm. "You could use a few more friends. You're almost as bad as Kristoff."

Elsa let her eyebrow do the talking. "Almost?"

"At least you hang out with people—well—_human_ people. Before Kristoff had the excellent good fortune to run into me, it was him, a reindeer, and a bunch of trolls."

Elsa chuckled. "True."

"Oh, good, you're laughing." Anna beamed. Then her face grew serious. "So …"

"… Yes?"

"You want to … talk about it?"

Elsa stared at the blanket draped over her lap. Her finger stroked the soft fur. It felt … so wonderful. She sighed. "Not … particularly …"

"All right. We don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to. Though …" Anna reached for her sister's hand and held it her own. "When you want to talk about it, you're talking to me about it first."

Elsa smiled. "Deal."

The sister sat in silence for some time, Anna still holding Elsa's hand as Elsa stroked the blanket with the other hand.

"You're doing a good job, you know," Anna finally blurted out. Elsa looked up. "With this whole … Queen … thingie. You _are_."

The smile Elsa gave in reply was soft, slow, and perhaps more than a little sad. "I know you believe that. Thank you. It … means a lot."

_I just wish more people than you did believe that._

* * *

As far as Olaf was concerned, the Priest and Fish was the best tavern in Arendelle.

The little snowman waddled inside behind a tall man in a dark cloak. It wasn't hard for him to sneak into the tavern. Most of the time, if he kept quiet, people didn't often notice he was there. When in an "adult" space, most adults weren't focusing their attention three feet off the ground. Besides, most adults didn't see him until he drew attention to himself anyway. Kids did – but there weren't any kids in the tavern. A pity, Olaf could have used someone to play with.

But the kids were all in bed at this hour. So were Elsa and Anna. That was why he'd left the castle. When everybody went to sleep, the castle got quiet, and dark, and more than a little scary. And boring, too, which was worse.

Things were _never_ boring at the Priest and Fish.

Even now, the air was filled with music. That pianist from Corona must have finally arrived. People had been talking about him for weeks. There was an accordion player, too, and Olaf spent a brief minute wondering why there was an axe embedded in the plaster above his head. Then he shrugged and waddled forth to the main attraction.

The _fire_.

Olaf's eyes still went wide when he saw it, and he had been coming here now and then since autumn at the latest. He hurried to his spot, which was underneath a table right in front of the fire.

Olaf sat himself down and clapped his hands. The fire was, simply speaking, huge. It was in what Anna called an ox-roasting fireplace. The only other fireplace that Olaf had seen that came close was the fireplace in the castle kitchens, and Olaf hadn't had a good look at that; Cook always chased him away when he got into the kitchen. Maybe it was because it was warm down there. Olaf could already feel his personal flurry straining to keep up with the heat being given off by the huge fire in its stone fireplace.

If Olaf had been human, or if his proportions had been closer to human, he would have hugged his knees to his chest as he watched the flames dance. As it was, he didn't have knees. So he rocked back and forth on his behind and grasped the bottom of his feet in his hands.

He heard footsteps come near him; then there were suddenly two pairs of feet sharing his space underneath the table. Olaf scooted a little to one side so he wouldn't get kicked. Getting kicked didn't bother him, but when he got kicked he tended to get discovered, and that tended to lead to him getting thrown out of the bar, in pieces no less.

The pianist was just starting a killer show tune medley when the two men (Olaf figured they were men, women generally didn't wear pants) started to speak.

"So," said one, "how did it feel to nearly cause another eternal winter, Roahl?"

"Shut up," grumbled the other – Roahl. "The only one causing any winters is _her_."

"She."

"Whatever." A thunk shook the table above Olaf. "Gods, this is good stuff."

"Easy now, friend." The other man's voice was concerned, wary. "Not too fast. Not too much."

"You're not my mother, Knut."

"Well, someone has to look out for you." Olaf watched the second man stretch out his legs under the table. Olaf scooted again. "How are you holding up?"

A snort. "You could look into my account at your bank and find out."

Silence. Then, "I saw you made a deposit today."

"I sold the _Ringhorn_," Roahl muttered.

Knut gasped. "In _winter_? Who buys a ship in winter?"

"Bloody speculators and cutthroats, that's who!" The table thunked again, but it was a softer, fleshier thunk. "I barely got half of what she was worth!"

"Roahl, I could arrange a loan –"

"I don't want charity."

"A loan is hardly charity."

"It is when you're giving it out to a man who you know won't be able to pay you back the principal, never mind the interest."

"You will." A slight creak in the chair and Knut's legs stretched out further. If Olaf scooted any further, he would be banging right into Roahl's legs, and that wouldn't be good. "Remember, there's another delegation from Weselton. If _she_ accepts their offer—"

"Ha! You mean like she accepted the offers from the last five delegations?"

Knut was silent. Then, slowly, "Perhaps … perhaps Cicero ought to sharpen his quill again."

"Because Cicero did _so_ much good last time."

"You don't know that. People are talking." Olaf heard tapping on the table above him, like the summer rain, only more rhythmic. "That's always a good first step."

"You can't even get Arud to bring it up in her council. What does it matter if people in the street are talking if the right people aren't talking?"

"Patience, friend—"

"Don't you 'patience' me, Knut. I ran out of patience three months ago." Roahl sighed. "What I need is for this bloody embargo to end!"

"And it will. As I said, patience. Whatever else you can say about Her Majesty –"

"Don't get me started."

"Roahl. _Patience_. She's sensitive to public opinion, isn't she? As long as we turn up the pressure …"

"And how long will that take? I've got two ships left! Selling the _Ringhorn_ barely got me enough to get myself through the winter. If the embargo isn't lifted by spring, I'm finished!"

Another sigh, this time from Knut. "What you need, Roahl –"

"What I _need_ is for someone competent to take the wheel of this bloody country! What I _need_ is for someone in charge to realize that cutting off trade with Weselton is worse than cutting off your nose to spite your face! _What I need_," one of the tankards suddenly flew off the table and went skittering along the floor in front of Olaf, spewing glogg across the floor as it turned, "is for that ice bitch to go back to her bloody mountain and leave someone with a brain in charge!"

The whole tavern went silent for a moment.

The next sound Olaf heard was a chair hastily being pushed back, then heavy footsteps stomping away. "Roahl – wait!" A few metallic clinks rung on the table above Olaf; then the other chair was pushed back and a faster, lighter set of steps hurried away from Olaf.

The door opened – Olaf felt the blast of arctic air. The door slammed shut.

Within a few moments, the faint hubbub of conversation resumed and gradually worked its way back to a roar. The tavern seemed to forget about Roahl's display almost immediately.

However, Olaf didn't forget. He sat under the table, rocking back and forth and chewing his lip with his buck tooth.

He stayed there until the pianist got everyone caught up in a rousing rendition of "I've Got a Dream." Then, and only then, did Olaf crawl from his hiding place and make his way to the door.

* * *

**And so the plot**** thickens ... read, review, tell me what you think! And thank you to all of the people who have read, reviewed, followed & favorited so far. I grin from ear to ear whenever I get an alert e-mail!**


	7. A Frozen Heart worth Mining

Chapter 7: A Frozen Heart worth Mining

Elsa woke to the smell of wood smoke.

Her eyes fluttered open, going to the fireplace – but it was only Marte, on her hands and knees, getting the fire started again. "There!" Marte murmured. If Elsa had still been asleep, she wouldn't have been able to hear it. "That's all right, then. I wonder how the fire went out?"

"Er …" Elsa coughed and tried to be discreet. Marte still jumped as she turned around. "That … may have been me."

"Oh, Your Majesty! I'm so sorry, did I wake you? Just get back to sleep, you've still got some time!"

Elsa shook her head. Once she was awake, she was awake, and besides, there was something to be said for half an hour to herself. "No, no, it's fine, Marte. You didn't wake me. I woke on my own." She climbed out of the bed and put on her blue dressing gown. "I'm sure you have plenty to do. I'll just read for a while until it's time to get ready."

Marte bit her lower lip and Elsa tried not to wince. Had she said the wrong thing again? She could usually manage to hold her own in Council and even with Anna, but thirteen years of isolation had done little to sharpen her social skills. But as she replayed the statement over in her mind, she realized how it must have sounded …

"I'm sorry, Marte. I didn't mean that – how it came out. What I meant was that I don't mean to disturb your work."

An amused light leapt into Marte's eye. "Your Majesty … is that even possible?"

… That was an excellent question. Elsa chuckled. "Perhaps not."

"But I'll leave you to your book, if that's what you like. Just let me get the candle lit." Marte was already lighting the candle even as she spoke. There seemed to be nothing else for her to do, but still she hesitated. "… Your Majesty?"

"Yes?"

"Is the room too hot for you at night? I can see that the fire is a little lower, so you can sleep better."

"What? Oh, no, not at all. I just …" Elsa frowned. What _had_ she been thinking? "I had a dream," she finally murmured. "With … fire in it." _And … piano music?_

Elsa shook her head. All that came to mind were flashes – a roaring fire, thuds and crashes above her, and through it all the sound of a piano expertly played. "I think—I think something in the dream was less than pleasant. I woke up – saw the fire – and put it out."

_How very odd,_ she thought, settling herself down in her armchair and reaching for the book she had left on the table.

"Well, it's not a bad way to react to a nightmare," Marte murmured.

"This wasn't a nightmare." Her nightmares tended to involve Weselton soldiers in maroon cloaks and crossbows, Hans with a sword twice his size, or a land blanketed in a winter she couldn't thaw. When she was very unlucky, Anna would be in them. Anna at five, unconscious in her arms as a streak of hair slowly turned white. Anna in her ice palace, collapsing under Elsa's ice strike to the heart. Anna as a frozen blue statue.

When Elsa had nightmares, she didn't half awaken, and put out a fire if it was bothering her, and roll back to sleep. When Elsa had nightmares, she bolted awake in a room that was completely iced over, and she cowered under the covers, gasping and sobbing into her pillows so that no one would hear.

Shuddering, Elsa picked up her book and opened it up. _It's Chapter Three, Elsa, calm down._ It was her favorite part, the part where the heroine realized the handsome stranger was actually a prince in disguise.

But it was too late. Thinking of her nightmares led to other thoughts, like what awaited her this morning.

_Negotiations with Weselton._

Elsa leaned back in the chair and rubbed her temple. Marte continued to bustle around the room, making the bed, laying out Elsa's clothes for the day. The sound was somehow soothing, but hardly as much of a distraction as she needed.

She sighed and looked longingly at the book. But it wasn't to be, not today at any rate. Not until after her meeting was over. "Marte?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Could you bring breakfast up, please? With the newspaper, if it's ready." She sighed. "I think I'm going to have to start preparing for the day sooner rather than later."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Marte curtsied and bustled from the room.

Elsa glanced at the book again, then into the fire with its dancing flames. That dream tried to worm its way back into her consciousness. She could hear piano music, and two men's voices …

She shook her head. This was getting her nowhere. And with a firm push, she raised herself out of the easy chair, hurried to her vanity, and started to brush out her hair.

* * *

They were to meet with the Weselton delegation in the Green Room.

The Green Room had been, in her father's time, a room used for low-level functionaries. It had a large conference table and comfortable chairs, but other than that, there was nothing much to recommend it. There was no paneling or wallpaper on the walls, simply plain green paint. Only a couple of tapestries and some candelabra functioned as decoration. There were windows, but the view they gave out onto was nothing in particular. Elsa doubted that her father had set foot in this room more than a handful of times in his lifetime, and had he met with ambassadors here, they would have been insulted.

However, Elsa was not her father. No sooner had she walked in then she closed her eyes and laid one hand against the wall.

Ice spread from her fingers. The lower half of the walls grew a wainscot of ice, decorated in intricate rosemaling and topped with an equally-intricate chair rail. Ice crept up the curtains by the windows, forming tassels of dazzling crystals that would shoot rainbows across the room when the light hit them right. Each of the candelabra grew an icy coat, with more crystals hanging off the stems.

Elsa opened her eyes and surveyed her handiwork with a faint smile. Then she took a seat at the conference table, laid her notes before her, and waited.

Minister Falk was the first to arrive, his own stack of notes carried under his arm. The big man moved strangely quickly, in the way that big men often would. "Good morning, Your Majesty."

"Good morning, Minister. How are you today?"

"Well, very well – and you?"

"The same," Elsa replied. There were some of her ministers who would spend the time before a meeting going over last-minute reminders and points, but Minister Falk wasn't one of them. The big man preferred to exchange pleasantries and talk of little things. Perhaps it was so that nothing important would be overheard by the delegates when they came into the room.

So they talked of Minister Falk's family and his Yule holiday. Elsa was giggling over the reaction of Minister Falk's youngest son when he was given his first pony as a Yule gift when a knock came from the door. "Come in," Elsa called.

The first person to stick his head into the door was Ambassador Solberg. Any thought of laughing was gone from Elsa. But when he grinned broadly upon seeing her, Elsa couldn't help but return the gesture with a small smile of her own.

Two other men came in with Ambassador Solberg, the first completely bald but trying to make up for it with the beginnings of a beard; the second man tall with bushy eyebrows and hair the color of black coffee. They took the seats Elsa waved them to. Introductions were made all around; the bald man was Master Pilkvist and the tall one Master Grahn.

Elsa took a deep breath and prepared to start the meeting. "Well, gentlemen, now that we are all here—"

_Knock knock knock!_

_What _now_?_ "Yes, who is it?"

The door opened. "Sorry I'm late," murmured Stigr Arud as he hurried into the room and took a seat to Elsa's left.

Elsa's eyes went wide. Arud was a member of her Council, the representative appointed for the province of Letemark. Letemark was the most densely populated province, the one to the south that covered most of the country's ports, including Rosen. It had been hit hardest by both Elsa's winter and by the cessation of trade with Weselton. Arud had been the most vocal member of her Council when it came to both, and his comments had not been kind.

Most importantly, he was not supposed to be here. He had no diplomatic training and no foreign policy experience. He could only make the government of Arendelle look bad.

Unfortunately, kicking him out would only serve to make Elsa look bad. "Councilor Arud," she said with more than a touch of frost in her voice. "How kind of you to join us."

Arud was halfway into the process of sitting down, but he stopped. He glared at Elsa.

Taking a page from Anna's book, Elsa smiled at him. Something like a laugh came from the other end of the table, but Elsa held Arud's gaze until he looked away and sat down.

"As I was saying." Elsa folded her hands on the table and turned back to the delegates. "Now that we are all here, I am very interested in hearing your proposal, Ambassador Solberg."

Ambassador Solberg nodded and drew a sheaf of papers out of his folder. "Here, Your Majesty."

There was only one copy, which meant that both Minister Falk and Arud were leaning into her space to read it. Elsa found herself holding her breath and trying not to shiver. She could count on one hand the people she normally allowed to come this close, and neither Arud nor Minister Falk was on the list.

Minister Falk's expression grew more troubled as he read through the proposal. Arud, however, scarcely glanced at it before he leaned back, adjusting his waistcoat. "Well! Gentlemen, this seems to me to be—"

"Unacceptable," Elsa interrupted.

Arud's green eyes went wide.

"Unacceptable?" repeated Master Grahn. He already had a blank sheet of paper in front of him, his pen dipped and ready to go. Somehow, the pose looked insufferably elegant. "Might I ask why, Your Majesty?"

"Indeed!" Arud huffed. Minister Falk glared daggers at him but he didn't appear to notice. "This is the same agreement we had for the past five – no, _seven_ years!"

"And that is why it is unacceptable," Elsa replied. "Minister Falk?"

"Oh, heavens, where to _begin_ …"

"Your Majesty …" That was Master Pilkvist, leaning forward. "I was part of the delegation that drafted this original agreement, with your father and his ministers, may he rest in peace. If I remember correctly, all of us were quite pleased with it."

"Perhaps," Elsa replied. "But while the terms may have seemed like a triumph on paper, how they were implemented and interpreted were anything but."

"Oh?" asked Master Pilkvist. "Could you give us an example?"

"Yes, would you?" Arud snapped, causing every eye in the room to go to him.

Elsa bristled. And even though Minister Falk was straightening his cravat (his signal that was he was about to speak), she drew the paper over to her. She'd find something objectionable in a moment. Practically every term in that agreement had turned in their hands over the course of the past seven years.

"The harbor fees," Elsa said with no small amount of triumph in her voice.

Arud paled – he remembered how this had gone.

"You object to waiving all harbor fees and taxes for Arendellian ships in Weselton's harbors – and vice versa?" asked Master Grahn, blinking.

"I should need to think carefully before I determined whether I would object to that or not. What I object to is how the matter played out," Elsa replied. "As you are no doubt aware, there are both provincial and national harbor fees and taxes which must be paid in Arendelle. The treaty," she gestured, "forbid us from collecting both from the ships of Weselton. However, at the time the treaty was signed, only the Riksdag in Weselton had the right to collect harbor fees and taxes – and so Arendellian ships were only protected from those fees. Yet somehow, three years after our treaty was signed, the Riksdag voted to give the power to collect harbor fees to the provinces. Our ships had no protection from them and so were hit with harbor fees that could best be called exorbitant."

Ambassador Solberg nervously cleared his throat, "Your Majesty – if you object to that, we could find a way around it. Forbid both the national government and the provinces from charging harbor fees, for instance."

"And what if the provinces devolve that power onto the port towns and harbors?" asked Elsa.

"I—" Ambassador Solberg began, but then he cocked his head to one side, brows drawn in. "I wish I could reassure you that what you fear won't happen. But …" He chewed on his lower lip. "Your Majesty, is there another way to get around this objection? What would you suggest?"

Elsa's eyes went wide. _What would _I_ suggest?_

But luckily Minister Falk came to her rescue. "Well, I always like a solution that puts both parties in a bind," he chuckled. "Say, we promise that we'll charge each other's ships no more than what we charge our own – and that goes for all levels of government."

Master Grahn blanched and Master Pilkvist's jaw dropped. But Ambassador Solberg nodded. "That sounds reasonable. Master Grahn, mark it down."

"But—Ambassador!"

"Mark it down. We were sent here to negotiate in good faith." Ambassador Solberg glared until Master Grahn started to write.

"The Duke …" Master Pilkvist muttered.

"Is not here," Ambassador Solberg replied. He glanced down the table to see Elsa looking at him and suddenly had to take off his spectacles and start to clean them.

Elsa let her hands fall beneath the table and held them tightly in her lap. Her gaze went to the draft agreement before her.

"Well!" Arud said, trying to sound jovial and failing miserably. "Now that we've solved that little conundrum, I should hope that—"

"There are plenty more where that came from, Stigr." Minister Falk took out his pipe – a clear signal that he intended to stay where he was for quite a long time. "Do you mind, Your Majesty?"

_Oh, Frigg, please don't!_ "Of course not, Minister," Elsa replied.

"Good, good." He took a match and lit it. Elsa tried not to wrinkle her nose as the sickly sweet smell of tobacco filled the room. "Now, gentlemen … if you'll turn to page three, I believe we could all use a talk about those lumber quotas …"

* * *

They spent the entire day in negotiations, breaking only for lunch and ending just in time for Minister Falk and Arud to return to their homes in the city for dinner. The sun had long since set. Elsa waited in the room only long enough for everyone else to leave (Arud would have to get his dressing-down some other day) so she could remove her ice. Then she slipped away, hoping the scent of stale tobacco would leave her sometime before going to bed.

For once, she was positively glad that Anna was dining at a friend's in town. It meant that she could order her dinner to be brought up to her bedroom and there was no one she need worry about offending. She could read her book as she ate, say not a word to anybody, and it would be _glorious_.

But first, she needed some air.

There were many different ways to sneak onto the grounds without being seen, and in thirteen years of isolation, Elsa had found them all. She slipped out one of the doors that had been built in the old days, before Arendelle was a single country and back when Rosen could easily be the victim of attack. It led to a small courtyard that was still used by the guards for training. Now, however, there would be no one there.

Elsa slowly sank onto a bench and breathed in the crisp, cold air. She leaned her head on the castle wall, letting the cold seep through her, relaxing the tension from her muscles. This was just as good as – no, this was better than taking a warm bath.

Lazily, she lifted a hand and let a small stream of snowflakes fly from it. She smiled. Making the rosemaling on the walls of the Green Room had been fun, but it was so controlled. With the Weselton delegates in town, it was something she was doing every day. It would be nice to let loose …

"_Do you want to build a snowman?"_ asked the voice of memory. Well, no, she didn't. A snowman was too close to a human being right now. But a snow reindeer …

A snow polar bear …

A snow fox, matched with a snow hound …

Even a snow dolphin, because why not?

_Those_ she was quite content to share her little courtyard with.

Elsa beamed. Her menagerie stood white and perfect in the moonlight. But it was too still.

Elsa hadn't created something alive out of snow since Marshmallow. But she could make her creations move. She lifted both of her hands and made faint dancing motions, akin to the puppeteers she'd seen when out in the city.

Her fox and her hound started to dance around each other.

If an actual puppeteer had been watching Elsa, he would have been aghast: the gestures she was making were all wrong. But the fox and the hound still moved the way she wanted them to. They danced, fluid and natural, more like the real motion of a real animal than the jerky movement of a puppet. Perhaps the fox owed more to the movements of a cat than to an actual fox, and perhaps the way they chased each other was a little too merry for a life-or-death struggle, but no one was around to tell Elsa that, so it didn't matter.

Elsa left her fox and her hound to their own devices and turned to the polar bear. The bear seemed to wake up as she looked at it, shook out its fur, and began to lumber through the courtyard. Next came the reindeer, who bounded around, got into everything, and soon was sniffing near Elsa. Elsa conjured a carrot-shaped snow sculpture and gave it to him. The snow deer scarfed it down and plopped next to Elsa, its head in her lap.

With one hand she stroked the reindeer, with the other she watched the dolphin. It stood forever frozen in the act of leaping. Could she make it fly? It would have to fly; there was no way for it to swim here. But she'd never tried that before …

Her other animals slowed, their movements becoming jerky and disjointed, as Elsa stared at the dolphin. Slowly, she lifted her free hand, the one that wasn't stroking the reindeer, and brought it down again in a smooth conductor's wave.

The dolphin dived into the air and down. Just as it skimmed the floor of the courtyard, Elsa brought her hand back up, and the dolphin climbed.

The dolphin kicked and swam. Elsa had no idea how accurate its motions were, but in that moment, it didn't matter. Her dolphin was swimming, flying, and maybe she had to concentrate on it, maybe she had to let the rest of her menagerie grow still, but her dolphin was alive in this moment. Elsa tilted her head back, a laugh about to ring out –

"_Wow_."

Elsa gasped and spun. Her creations, all of them, exploded into powder.

Her eyes met the Ambassador's across the courtyard as she tried to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry!" He looked truly apologetic, rubbing one gloved hand against his neck. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I …" Elsa looked away. "It's fine."

"No. I'm truly sorry." She heard the snow crunch and squeak under the Ambassador's boots as he moved closer, but not too close. "That was – amazing. And I'm sorry it's gone."

Elsa forced herself to laugh. "Ah, but that's the beauty of it." She raised her hand and the fox and the hound sprung back out of the snow. "I can always make them again."

The fox trotted to Elsa, but the hound, tail wagging, moved closer to the Ambassador. The Ambassador crouched and extended his hand; the hound sniffed it and batted his head under the hand until the Ambassador started to stroke him. "Remarkable," he murmured. "You – can control them? From all the way over there?"

"… More or less," Elsa shrugged. If she was being honest with herself, she would have to admit that she had no idea how this worked. Her little puppets sometimes did only as she bid, and sometimes seemed to have a mind of their own. And then, of course, there were Olaf and Marshmallow.

"What a gift," the Ambassador murmured.

Elsa blinked. "I—I'm sorry?"

He looked up. "Your – your gift. It's amazing."

"You – you think it's a gift?"

He blinked and looked around the courtyard significantly. "Isn't it?"

Elsa folded her hands in her lap. She stared into the distance. "Your … Duke seemed to think differently."

The Ambassador snorted. It was a perfectly diplomatic snort, saying nothing objectionable but at the same time speaking volumes.

Elsa allowed herself a small smile before her gaze fell to her lap.

"… Are you all right, Your Majesty?" The Ambassador gave the snow hound one last scratch behind the ears before standing. "If I'm disturbing you …"

"No, no, of course not," Elsa lied. "You're a guest here."

"A particularly unwelcome one, I'm guessing." Was it Elsa's imagination, or did the Ambassador sound … sad? "Not that I blame you for it."

Elsa's gaze snapped up. "Why not?" she asked, more quickly than she had intended, because if she had thought it through, she wouldn't have said anything at all.

The Ambassador's eyebrow rose. "Truly? After … what the Duke did?"

Something worse than cold swept through her, and Elsa looked away.

The Ambassador sighed. "I'm sorry – I just keep putting my foot into it, don't I? I didn't mean to remind you—"

"None of the other ambassadors admitted that he did anything wrong." Elsa looked up, trying to keep her gaze as steady and regal as possible, even if the rest of her felt like a little girl who just wanted to run away. "Yet you did. What has changed?"

The Ambassador's jaw fell. "Oh … darn."

"You weren't supposed to." It was not a question.

"My orders were to avoid the topic, if possible." The Ambassador sighed. "You have to understand – the government of Weselton is not quite ready to face what happened. Facing it, admitting it, would mean …" The Ambassador rubbed his neck. "It would mean that we would owe you a great deal. Wars have been started for less."

Elsa twisted her hands together. Jarl Casper had pointed that out, several times. Even Minister Falk, normally not a fan of war, had fretted openly about what refusing to go to war with Weselton might mean and how the rest of the continent might see it.

"And then, of course, if there was a war …" The Ambassador sighed and gestured around the courtyard. "I'm sure we can imagine how it would likely go."

There were some things, like the exact scope and extent of her powers, that it was better to neither confirm nor deny. So Elsa said nothing.

"And I probably shouldn't be telling you any of this." Elsa watched out of the corner of her eye as the Ambassador swept his hair back. It flopped into his face the second his hand left. "But … I don't know. We expect you to trust us, yet we've certainly done nothing to earn it recently."

Elsa hesitated. He had told her so much; would it be so wrong to tell him something as well? "There are … not inconsiderable factions of people in Arendelle who do not like the embargo with Weselton any more than the people of Weselton like it. Distrust … may not be something I can afford."

"Yet you still fight for every concession you can win." Why was he grinning as he said that?

Elsa stood up. "I have to. The treaty desperately needed renegotiating anyway. My father … had he lived …"

"I understand." He nodded. "And if it makes you feel better – Arendelle isn't the only one. I can't begin to tell you how many other nations sought to break off trade after … well, after."

Elsa blinked. "What?"

"You didn't know?"

"I knew …" Elsa began to twist her hands together. "I knew Arendelle's allies had broken trade. Corona and Andalasia, mostly. But … others?"

The Ambassador's eyes met hers across the snowy courtyard. There was a part of Elsa's mind screaming at her to just shut up already, make an excuse, and vanish back into the castle. She shouldn't be telling him all of this. He shouldn't be telling her all of this. Their countries …

But that was the devil of it. For just a second, Elsa wasn't looking at a country, but at a person. She even flattered herself to believe that perhaps the Ambassador was seeing the same thing when he looked at her.

Perhaps his own voice of caution had a quiet word with him. He sighed. "More than I care to name."

"I'm sorry," Elsa said, once again before she could think better of it. "For – for your people, I mean. They must be suffering. And …" She twisted her hands together and turned away. "People generally don't deserve the messes their monarchs tangle them in."

"Hear, hear," the Ambassador whispered.

A ghost of a smile crossed Elsa's lips, for all that he couldn't see it. "So. It seems we are in fundamental agreement on one thing, at least."

The Ambassador laughed. Elsa startled at the sound. His laugh was rich, almost creamy, and so sweet. She turned to see him grinning at her. "Indeed. Maybe the rest of the treaty won't be so hard?"

Elsa chortled. "If only, Ambassador. But I shouldn't keep you. Doubtless you'll be wanting your supper."

"And a wise woman never gets between a man and his supper," the Ambassador replied, causing Elsa to laugh. "I should be allowing you to get to your supper as well. Have a pleasant evening, Your Majesty."

"You too, Ambassador." Elsa gathered her skirts into her hand and was halfway to the door.

"Your Majesty—wait."

Elsa turned, blinking.

"For what it's worth …" He wouldn't meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, too."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Please follow and/or review if you like the story. I grin every time I get a notice!**


	8. Make One Wrong Move

Chapter 8: Make One Wrong Move

"And then," Anna went on, "Lise's sister Maja started on the pianoforte. And …"

"She was really bad?" asked Kristoff.

Elsa smiled as she stirred some milk into her tea. She loved it on the rare occasion when Kristoff accepted one of Anna's invitations to eat with them in the private breakfast room. Anna always lit up when he walked into the room, and it was adorable to watch her chatter while Kristoff tried to keep up.

Of course, it was only adorable until it got completely embarrassing. But Elsa had mastered the art of closing her eyes, sticking her fingers in her ears, and going, "La la la!" Unfortunately, all too often that was not a metaphor.

Anna, however, was leaning forward, elbow on the table (Elsa sent a brief apology to her mother for not bothering to mention this lapse of etiquette to Anna), thinking. "It's not that she's bad. Her technique is actually rather disgustingly good. But it's … she tries too hard, that's what it is. She's so desperate to impress everyone that she chooses pieces that are so difficult that she's concentrating on her technique, so she doesn't put any _feeling_ into it, and … well, you can't find fault with it, except for the fact that it really doesn't sound that great. You should come with me next time, Kristoff!" Anna swatted his arm lightly. "It'll make more sense if you see it for yourself!"

"I think the thought of being in the same room as Mistress Bentsen when she's in a husband hunting mood—" Elsa began.

"Which is all the time?" Anna interrupted.

"Precisely. Anyway," she began to butter her toast, "that thought has struck cold terror into the hearts of far braver men than Kristoff …" Elsa finished off the butter and gave her toast a critical look, "and I don't blame them."

"Well, that doesn't explain why you can't be persuaded to come with me," Anna poked Elsa's side, "she's not desperate enough to set up one her daughters with you yet. And you should come with me! I think you and Hanne would get along great!"

Elsa's toast was halfway to her mouth, but she paused. "I thought you always said Hanne was a sweetheart who never thought ill of anybody."

"Yeah, she is, why?" asked Anna.

"And you think she'd get along with _me_?" Elsa's eyebrow rose. "Thinking the worst of everyone is practically my job – present company excepted, of course."

"I'm not saying that Hanne would survive five minutes in politics. I'm saying she could be a great friend to you, Elsa. And you need more of those." Anna poked her side again.

"I'm going to get a bruise if you keep that up."

"Well, stop saying things that make me want to poke you and I'll stop poking you," Anna shrugged philosophically. "So! What are everyone's plans for today?" She leaned a little closer to Kristoff, batting her eyelashes at him and grinning.

But Kristoff could only spread his hands and shrug. "I've got to get my ice sculpture done, Anna. The judging's first thing in the morning on Sunday."

"Oh, right!" Anna clapped her hands. "So what are you sculpting?"

"No."

"What do you mean, _no_, I'm just _asking_ …"

"And you're doing part of the judging."

Anna sighed. "You won't even give me a hint? Just a little hint? So I can maybe give you just a little push when it comes to the judging?"

"No. If I win because my – my …" Kristoff's ears turned red and he stared at the table. "… Something. Anyway, if you rig it, Anna, then I won't have really won. Not that I'm going to win anyway," he sighed.

"You could, Kristoff," Elsa replied. "Anna showed me that little reindeer carving you made for her. It was very well done."

Kristoff laughed. "Very well done isn't quite enough to win in this contest, Elsa. It's … it's the Winter Festival. This is where the big talent comes out to play."

"Oh! And by the way, Elsa," Anna said before Elsa could put down her tea to come up with any more words of encouragement, "you're opening up the festival."

Elsa spit out her tea.

"Relax, relax! It isn't a big deal or anything!" Anna babbled on, patting Elsa on the back as she coughed and sputtered. "All you have to do is cut the ribbon in front of the park and say, 'I declare the Winter Festival to be open!' Trust me, I checked!"

"Anna!" Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. "_Why_ did you volunteer me for this? You could have opened the festival! You're actually on the committee!"

"I know, but …" Anna looked down and frowned, that sad, lost little look that made it very hard for Elsa to deny her anything. "The people barely get to see you, Elsa. I know, I know, you're the Queen and you have stuff to do and all, but … you should get to do the fun parts, too, that's all I'm saying."

"Anna, you do realize that being surrounded by people and having to put on a show for them isn't everyone's idea of fun, right?" Kristoff pointed out. "Particularly not your sister's?"

Elsa sent him a wordless look of thanks.

Anna tossed her head. "I know! I know! But … look, ok, Elsa, I _get_ that you'd rather spend your evening alone with a book than dancing the night away. I really do! But … if you spend all of your time being reclusive and – and just staying out of people's way, they're only going to see you when something bad happens. And you deserve better than that, Elsa. People should be happy to see you, not dreading what's going to happen next."

Elsa opened her mouth … and shut it again. Kristoff only made it to the first of the two steps. "I …"

Anna was smiling, her eyes seeming even bigger than normal. "Well?"

Elsa rubbed her temple. "… There's nothing I can say that will get me out of this, is there?"

"Nope!"

Elsa sighed. "All right. I'll do it."

"Great! And I didn't even tell you the best part!"

"What's that?" asked Elsa, raising her eyebrow.

"We get to GO to the Winter Festival! During the same time when the people are there! Not sneaking in after hours when everyone had left. When's the last time we did that, Elsa, huh?"

The last time they had done that had been before the accident. Afterward, their parents had taken them to see the ice sculptures in the festival, but only after the festival had closed and all the people had gone home. They stopped even doing that when Anna was ten and lost interest in seeing ice sculptures and the bygone remains of fun without being able to participate in the real fun herself.

Elsa smiled. "It's been too long."

"See? I really am the smart sister."

"And what does that make me?" Elsa laughed.

"The pretty one, duh! And if you listen to the Bentsen sisters, that's the best one to be! … Well, ok, not Lise, or Hanne, and certainly not Maja. But the two younger ones."

Elsa had met Katja and Linda once before, so she could only look up in a frozen rictus of a smile. Kristoff looked just as horrified as she felt.

Anna seemed almost oblivious to them as she reached across the table to where the chocolate-chip muffins were kept. Church bells rang in the distance.

Anna dropped her muffin. "Crap! I didn't know it was that late! I'm going to be late to my committee meeting!" She swiftly picked up the muffin and stuffed it into her mouth. "Bye, Elsa!" Or at least that was what Elsa thought she said as she hugged her. It came out sounding more like, "Mmhph, Mpha!"

Anna next moved to Kristoff, and Elsa realized that there was something out the window she simply had to see. She didn't look back until she heard Anna's feet running down the corridor.

It was still soon, because Kristoff was bright red and grinning a silly grin. "She—she's a real whirlwind when she gets going, isn't she?"

"She is," Elsa agreed, pouring herself another cup of tea. "More tea?"

"Um – no, thank you, Elsa. I'm fine."

"Very well." They both turned back to their food, in silence that was closer to companionable than stilted. Not too much closer – but closer all the same.

"So – um – Elsa …"

Elsa looked up, suddenly dreading where this might go. It had been six months … and Kristoff and Anna seemed to grow closer every day …

But apparently Kristoff had more prosaic concerns on his mind. "Anna never gave you a chance to answer. What are your plans for the day?"

Elsa managed a small smile. "It's the first Thursday of the month."

"It – oh!" Kristoff winced. "That means …"

Elsa nodded and sighed. "Petition Day."

* * *

"Her Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle!"

Kai calling her name was her cue to enter the throne room, so enter it Elsa did. She took the slow, measured steps that were second nature to her by now. Everyone wanted to get a good glimpse of the Queen before she sat down, so Elsa gave them that chance.

As Elsa came to the throne and faced the crowd, a flurrying of bowing and curtseying greeted her. Petition Day saw all sorts: richly dressed nobles, sober-suited men of business, and commoners and laborers in their Sunday best. Chancellor Tennfjord stood on the dais as well, to Elsa's left and off to the side, beside the small writing table and stool. Sprinkled throughout the crowd were the clerks and minor functionaries, the men and women who would see to it that whatever Elsa decided today would happen. Sometimes Elsa wondered who had the harder job, she or they.

As for Elsa herself, she understood that at least part of Petition Day meant making sure that the monarch was alive and well. Even during the time of her isolation, her father hadn't dropped the tradition of Petition Day, though he chose to hold in the Rosen town hall rather than the castle itself. Chancellor Tennfjord had held Petition Day during the time of Elsa's minority, and she knew there had been more than a few whispers about why the young Queen never attended.

So now that she was in attendance, she had to make it count. Today she wore a silk dress in Arendelle's royal color of dark purple, decorated with rosemaling accents in two broad stripes on either side of the skirt and making a V across the bodice and down to her waist. Most of her hair had been braided and knotted in the back of her head, though the hair along the sides had been left down and curled into tight corkscrews. Marte deserved a raise for making Elsa's hair behave as well as it did. On her head she wore a simple gold coronet. Her only other jewelry was a pair of discreet pearl earrings, her ring of state, and the gold crocus brooch her mother had handed down to her.

If the people looked at Elsa and thought "Snow Queen," it was only because it took far more than a wardrobe change to make people forget some things.

She nodded to the people, smiled, and took her seat. Chancellor Tennfjord took that as the symbol to begin. "May the first petitioner come forward!" she called, and then took her own seat behind the small writing desk.

Elsa folded her hands on her lap and wore the small, fixed smile she had seen her mother wear at so many state occasions as the first petitioner walked up to the dais.

There was never any telling what might come on Petition Day. Some of the people came before her with requests for justice: from a thieving landlord, a recalcitrant neighbor, or from a government official. The ones that wanted justice in conflicts between private citizens were gently directed over to the table of clerks who worked in the Justice Department, who could help them file a suit. The ones who had complaints against government officials were directed to another table, where a different clerk could take their story in full and open up an investigation. And then … there were the other ones.

One young woman wanted Royal funding to open a school for the training of nurses; Elsa had to admit herself intrigued, but all she could do today was to accept the detailed proposal the young woman gave to her with the sincere promise to read it fully and think it over. One man, the mayor of the small village of Eidsmark, came to ask for relief after a devastating fire ripped through his village. No fewer than three clerks were sent to attend to him, and Chancellor Tennfjord signaled to a fourth and whispered in her ear. No doubt that one was being sent to draft a sternly-worded letter to the governor of Buskeford, the province where the village was, asking why the mayor had to come all the way to the capital to get some help.

Midway through the morning, the Weselton delegation – Ambassador Solberg, Master Pilkvist, and Master Grahn – slipped into the throne room, along with two guards in the distinctive maroon cloaks of Weselton. Ambassador Solberg saw her gaze fall on them and grinned. Elsa tried to smile back, but every time she saw those maroon cloaks, a ball of ice formed in her stomach and threatened to sink to her shoes.

Elsa took a deep breath and tried to focus her mind on her petitioners. For the first time this morning, she wished she had brought her gloves with her.

It was getting on toward lunchtime when one particular man approached the dais. He was short, probably in his middle fifties, with lightening blonde hair the color of yellowed ivory. He bowed to her, a short, jerky bow that gave the bare minimum of required respect and no more. "Your Majesty!"

Elsa blinked; something about his voice struck her as vaguely familiar. But she could not remember where she had heard it. "Sir. How may I help you this morning?"

The man brought out a slim envelope sealed with wax. "Your Majesty, I have been elected, you may say, as the representative of the merchants of Rosen. We have a petition for you." He stepped forward, as if to give the petition to Elsa directly, but a guard darted in front of him, took the envelope, and handed it to Elsa. Elsa thought she saw the petitioner scowl, but his face was soon composed back into a mask of calm equanimity.

"I see." Elsa took the petition from the guard and popped the wax seal. "Might I ask what it is about? Or would you prefer I read it in private?"

"Not at all, Your Majesty. I have sent in a copy to the _Times,_ and I have full confidence that it will be printed tomorrow." The man straightened his cravat and his fitted jacket, smiling. "We are simply asking that you reopen trade with Weselton, effective immediately."

A gasp ran through the throne room. The look that the Chancellor sent to the petitioner was positively black. As for Elsa?

She froze. A slow tendril of ice began to make its way across the petition.

Hurriedly she passed the petition itself over to Chancellor Tennfjord, then she buried her hands in her skirt. She created a small ball of snow and ice and squeezed it between her fingers. The cold soothed her skin, the need to shoot ice retreated, and the simple act of squeezing made it easier for her to breathe.

"Indeed," murmured Elsa. "You seem to be a reader of the _Times_, Master …?"

"Strand, Your Majesty, Knut Strand." He pulled on both sides of his jacket, standing as tall as he could and puffing his chest out. "I am a banker by trade."

"Ah," was all Elsa said to that. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Strand. Since you read the _Times_, surely you know that we are already in negotiations with Weselton?" Elsa permitted herself a nod in the direction of the delegation, being careful to focus on the Ambassador's face and nothing else.

She still needed to give her ice-ball an extra squeeze.

"As such, I am very much afraid it would be premature to reopen trade. More to the point …" Elsa shrugged and did her best to smile. "It's winter. From my understanding, Arendelle does not often trade internationally during the winter. None of the merchants you represent would be able to send out their boats or their wagons until spring."

She did not say, _And we may very well have an agreement by then._ She would not give Master Pilkvist and Master Grahn that kind of weapon.

Fleetingly it occurred to her to wonder why it didn't bother her to give the Ambassador that kind of weapon, but Elsa banished that thought back to where it had come from.

Master Strand laughed. "Oh, Your Majesty, forgive me for saying this – but you only show how little you know about trade!"

Elsa sat up, her eyes flashing. A gasp rippled through the room.

"That—that is to say, I understand that you would think such things beneath your notice," Master Strand hurriedly corrected himself. "But the point of the matter is, despite it being difficult to move goods from one place to another, trade still goes on. Contracts are created, deals are worked out. It's still possible to get messages from one country to the next, despite the weather. Most of Arendelle's merchants will be using this season to prepare for the year ahead. Without the embargo on trade with Weselton being lifted, it is impossible to do that."

"There is Corona. Andalasia. Genovia. Francelle." Elsa squeezed her ice ball when she named each country. "Even the Southern Isles. And there are many others. Our trading ties with all of these countries have been deepened and strengthened since the events of last summer." She'd spent much of the summer and autumn doing just that as part of her cleanup after the Great Thaw. "Corona in particular has expressed great interest in our ice—"

The way Master Strand snorted told Elsa just what he thought of Arendelle's ice trade. "Your Majesty, with all due respect—"

There may have been a glint in her eye which told him how any comment prefaced with "with all due respect" was likely to go over. He swallowed. "You – you may not be aware of this yourself," he continued, "seeing as you were quite young when it occurred – but there is a precedent for … the situation in which we find ourselves. As you are no doubt aware, the last agreement between us and Weselton was signed seven years ago. But it was several months late. So what our esteemed King Agdar, your father, and the Duke of Weselton did was to extend the previous agreement with Weselton until the new one was complete. There is no reason why you could not repeat this tactic."

Elsa glanced beyond Master Strand to the Weselton delegation. Ambassador Solberg looked hopeful and intrigued. Masters Grahn and Pilkvist looked positively jubilant, at least until they felt Elsa's gaze on them.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Elsa replied, turning back to Master Strand and squeezing hard on her snowball.

"And why not?" demanded Master Strand. "Your Majesty, don't you think you've done enough over this small insult?"

The temperature in the room plunged, and the snowball in Elsa's hands gained a solid coating of ice.

Elsa struggled to control her breathing, and above all she struggled _not to look_ at the maroon cloaks of the Weselton guards. But she felt them there, big, intimidating, with Odin-only-knew what weapons hidden underneath those huge cloaks. At least last time she had _warning_ before they started shooting –

The crowd gasped, hands pointing at the dais. Elsa looked down to see a small circle of ice formed under her skirts and growing outward.

_Calm down!_ Elsa shouted to herself. _Think of Anna!_

"The Queen! The Queen!" was all she could hear the whispers saying.

_The Queen has cursed us …_

_The Queen will send another winter on us …_

"_Don't be the monster they fear you are!"_

Elsa closed her eyes and forced her mind one everything she loved. Anna. Olaf. Her parents, Kai and Gerda. Arendelle. Hot chocolate, if that was what it took!

The whispers died down, and when Elsa looked at the floor, the icy coating had disappeared. Her little ice-ball hadn't, though.

Elsa took a deep breath and looked up to see Master Strand still staring at the floor of the dais, pale and bug-eyed. She swallowed. "Master Strand, I have already told you that your request is not possible. However, we will retain your petition, and if circumstances change," _which they won't,_ "we will certainly consider it. Thank you."

Swallowing, Elsa turned to Chancellor Tennfjord. "Please send in the next petitioner."

* * *

Elsa was never sure how she made it through the rest of Petition Day. All she knew was that as soon as the last petitioner was seen and the doors to the throne room closed behind her, she ran through the corridors all the way to the small deserted courtyard.

No one was in it when she pushed the door open. The snow she had made last night had all been swept away so the soldiers could practice. Elsa barely forced herself to make a cushioning blanket of snow before she fell to her knees.

_What is wrong with me?_ she wondered. _I used to be so good at this …_

Repressing everything – every last feeling – down, down into a deep well in her soul that had no bottom, so it could hold everything she ever felt. Forcing herself not to feel, to conceal everything. But in the last six months, she'd started to show things again, feel them, and now …

Elsa panted, and swallowed, and tried to let the swirling storm inside subside.

It didn't. She could feel the familiar tingling in her blood, her powers waking up and wanting to be used. She wished she had her gloves. She knew the easiest way to disperse the tingling was to make something, do something, but right now, she wasn't sure she wanted to see what her powers would create if she tried to use them.

She'd had enough of ice-claw sculptures and deadly spikes to last a lifetime.

_It was just one petitioner, _Elsa thought, trying to reason with herself. _One man! And what he asked for wasn't even all that unreasonable!_

… _Am I being unreasonable?_

Elsa heard a faint little whimper that might have come from her. She shot snow from her palms and grabbed a handful of it, pressing it against her head as if it would stop the headache that was threatening to bloom in her skull.

_Was_ she? She had seen the looks on Master Grahn's and Master Pilkvist's faces. Give them an inch and they would try to take the whole country. All they wanted was to get the trade opened up again. If she gave them that, even on a temporary basis, they'd have no reason to let her negotiate for a better deal.

_Maybe you don't need a better deal. Maybe all you need is to get the status quo back. That's all that banker thought was necessary. Surely a businessman would be all in favor of a better deal? If he isn't—_

She heard the door creak open behind her. "Go away!" she shouted. "Whoever you are – the last thing I want right now is to talk!"

Silence. Then a disappointed reply. "Ok, Elsa … if you say so …"

Elsa looked up with a gasp. "Olaf!" She spun as well as she could without getting up. "Olaf, I – I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you."

"But—but you said …" Olaf slowly waddled back around the door. "Are you all right, Elsa?"

Elsa couldn't reply. But she could shake her head.

Olaf came forward. The door softly closed behind him. The little snowman, Elsa had learned, tended to say either precisely the wrong thing or exactly the right thing – but even he had an idea when words weren't necessary.

He gave her the warm hug she'd been craving since Master Strand showed up. Elsa gasped out a sob before hugging him back.

"It's ok, Elsa," Olaf murmured. "You'll be fine."

"Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me," Elsa murmured. Was she even speaking to Olaf? Sometimes speaking to him felt like talking to herself. "Why can't I be like everyone else?"

"Petty and dishonest?" Olaf wondered.

Elsa blinked. _Petty and dishonest?_ She looked at Olaf, eyebrows knit together.

Olaf shrugged. "I heard it somewhere. But why would you want to be like everybody else, Elsa? You're fine the way you are."

She stared at her hands. She'd been squeezing a ball of snow all afternoon. She'd been sitting out here in the snow for ten minutes. She was _hugging a snowman_. But her hands showed no sign of being red, raw, or chapped. She could have just gotten out of a warm bath and rubbed her hands in Arendelle's best lotion.

And that was the least of everything that was wrong and strange about her hands, to say nothing of the rest of her.

"I think you're the only one who thinks that," Elsa murmured.

"That's not true."

It wasn't Olaf who replied.

Elsa gasped and spun – again – her skirt twisting underneath her. The Ambassador stood at the other end of the courtyard, right below the arch that led into the next courtyard. He was cringing, red-faced, and backing away. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said anything. I thought—never mind, I'll go—"

"Wait." Elsa scrambled to her feet, still holding on to Olaf. "Why are you here? What do you want?" He and the rest of the delegation had left the throne room for lunch and had not returned. She knew they had been in meetings with Minister Falk and his staff all afternoon.

The Ambassador winced. "I—uh—I just … oh, bloody …" He sighed.

Elsa stared, trying to figure out just what the Ambassador's game was.

"Um … Elsa?" whispered a voice near her elbow. Elsa looked down.

And gasped. "Olaf!"

He smiled at her. His body, a good foot below where his head ended, waved. "Could you, uh, put me down, please?"

"Of – of course." She gently placed his head back on his shoulders. "B-better?"

Olaf lifted his head up and set it back a little more firmly. "Perfect! Thanks, Elsa!" He grinned at her and flashed a thumbs-up, then he scampered over to where the Ambassador was standing.

"Hi! I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!"

Elsa's mouth opened; then she shut it again. Why should she intervene? She could tell a lot about a person by how they first reacted to Olaf.

… Or rather, how they second-reacted to Olaf. The first reaction tended to always be shock.

The Ambassador didn't disappoint. He was staring at Olaf in the expression of slack-jawed astonishment that just about everyone wore when they first got a good look at him. "Um … hello …"

Elsa could imagine that Olaf was grinning. He started to gesture with one hand, as if prompting the Ambassador to speak. "And … you are …?"

The Ambassador blinked and seemed to remember he was supposed to speak. "Oh! Nick. That is – Niklas Solberg, of Weselton."

"Hi Nick! Pleasure to meet you!"

"Likewise." The Ambassador smiled – a real smile, not a sarcastic one – and stuck out his hand. Olaf blinked and stared at the proffered hand.

"Olaf!" Elsa whisper-hissed. Olaf turned his head a full 180 degrees, which was always a little disconcerting to watch. "Shake it!" Elsa whispered, shaking her own hand to demonstrate.

"Oh!" Olaf turned back to the Ambassador. He shook his hand with a surprising amount of vigor for such a little snowman. Then he turned back to Elsa. "Elsa! When do I stop?"

"Um …" She watched the way the Ambassador's arm was being pumped up and down, the smile he was trying to hide and failing miserably. "I think now would be fine."

"Ok!" He let go abruptly in mid-shake. "Oh … say …" Olaf scratched his chin. "Is Weselton anywhere near this Weasel Town place everyone keeps talking about?"

Elsa smacked her forehead and closed her eyes.

But to her surprise, the Ambassador was – laughing?

Elsa slowly let her fingers fall open and opened one eye.

Yes, he _was_ laughing, a real laugh that rang through the empty courtyard like a bell. "Weasel Town? You too?"

_You too?_ Elsa gasped. "Ambassador –" She started walking toward him, pushing her emotions aside in the old way. "I am so sorry for any—any disrespect you and your delegation have faced. I assure you, only give me the names of the parties responsible and they will be reprimanded immediately."

The Ambassador stopped laughing.

Elsa stopped moving.

Olaf lifted his head so he could better look from Elsa to the Ambassador and back again. "Was it something I said?"

"No—no, Olaf," answered the Ambassador. "And – Your Majesty, thank you for your … concern, but I wasn't thinking of anyone in Arendelle."

"… Oh." Should she be comforted, realizing that there were people outside of Arendelle who had as low an opinion of Weselton as they did?

"… In fact, the person in question was my little brother."

Elsa blinked. "What? Your—your _brother_? He referred to your own country as—"

"Oh, no, not the country!" The Ambassador chuckled. "Just my uncle."

"Wait, who? Who's your uncle?" asked Olaf, pulling on the Ambassador's greatcoat to get his attention.

"The Duke of Weselton," Elsa replied. When Olaf looked blank, she sighed and corrected, "Weasel Town."

"Oh, _him_? You mean the monkey-chicken man who wouldn't stop screaming for five minutes when he saw me?"

The Ambassador snorted, and unless Elsa was very much mistaken, he rolled his eyes as well.

Then Olaf spun. "Wait. He's your _uncle_?"

"Unfortunately," replied the Ambassador drily, then clearly thought better of it as his eyes went wide.

The giggle escaped from Elsa before she could pull it back. The Ambassador stared at her – then he started to laugh as well. His laughter sparked more laughter from Elsa, and before she knew it, she was doubled over with it, and so was the Ambassador, and Olaf was chuckling too.

Until he wasn't. "Ok, guys … this is fun, but, seriously, what's so funny?"

That just made Elsa laugh harder. The Ambassador, too.

"… Guys?"

Elsa was the first to manage to straighten, wiping a tear from her eye. "Oh! I needed that!"

"I'm sure you did, Your Majesty." His words couldn't be condescending when he was smiling like that.

Elsa felt herself moving just a little nearer. "So … does your brother still call your uncle the Duke of Weasel Town?"

The laughter cut off abruptly from the Ambassador. His jaw fell a little. Then he swallowed. "Er – no, Your Majesty."

Elsa wondered what she had said that was so wrong. It was a natural enough question, wasn't it? And they had been laughing a moment ago!

"Ricky, he … my brother, that is …" The Ambassador sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "He … passed away."

Elsa gasped. Olaf's jaw fell. "He _did_? How terrible!" cried the little snowman. And without any warning, he latched onto the Ambassador with what Elsa guessed was his warmest hug yet.

The Ambassador reciprocated as well as he could, which was not easy when dealing with a three-foot-tall snowman. "Thank you, Olaf …" He glanced at Elsa. "But … it was many years ago."

"… Does that make a difference?" Elsa whispered. She couldn't imagine outliving Anna by many years. She wasn't sure how she had managed those few moments between Hans telling her that Anna was dead and Anna thawing.

"It gets easier to bear," the Ambassador replied with a faint shrug. "But it's still …"

"Like missing part of yourself?" Elsa murmured.

The Ambassador nodded. "Yes. Exactly."

* * *

**Thank you for all of the reviews, favorites, and follows! Please leave a note & tell me what you think. :)**


	9. Now That's Ice

**Thank you RJCA27, CrunchdeNumbers, bagofpopcorn, Batman1809, and everyone else who has reviewed my story! I love reading your comments and even if I can't always come up with an intelligent reply, they bring a smile to my face.**

**But enough about me. On with the story!**

* * *

Chapter 9: Now That's Ice

After the events of Petition Day, Friday and Saturday passed by in a blur of work. When Elsa wasn't in meetings with the Council and everyone else, she was in her study, buried under a pile of paperwork. Usually she was able to use the weekend to catch up on everything that hadn't gotten done during the week at a leisurely pace, but she had to squeeze two days of catch-up into Saturday. At least Anna and Kristoff were both so busy with their own preparations for the festival that she didn't have to feel guilty about not being with them.

Still, before she knew it, it was Sunday morning, and it was time for her to go.

She made her way out into the courtyard. She was wearing the blue cloak with the snowflakes that Anna had gotten her for Yule. It seemed appropriate for a winter festival. Plus, the dark blue worked well against her pale coloring … or so Elsa thought, and Marte had enthusiastically agreed.

Kai was waiting in the courtyard with the royal sleigh. Anna had gone to the park before dawn to assist in the judging; Kristoff had taken her, and Olaf had gone with them. Since the sun only rose at nine this time of year and was gone before four in the afternoon, the festival would open sharply at ten to allow everyone as much time as they could to enjoy the ice sculptures.

Not that opening day would be the only time to enjoy the Winter Festival. The park and the ice sculptures would be on display until spring came. Food vendors and artisans selling little trinkets would be there every week. But there was something to be said for the charms of opening day.

Or so Elsa was told.

She sat next to Kai in the sleigh. Kai smiled fondly down at her. "I hope you don't me saying so, but you look very lovely today, Your Majesty. Your parents would be so proud if they could see you."

Elsa smiled. "Thank you." She arranged both of her hands in her white fur muff and took a deep breath.

Kai gently touched the reins, and the horses began to move forward. "You will be fine, you know."

"I keep trying to tell myself that. I—"

Elsa could say no more. They were crossing the causeway, and the cheer that came up from the people nearby drowned out all hope of conversation.

"Gods bless you, Queen Elsa!"

"Long live the Queen!"

"Queen Elsa!" That was a very young voice. "Do the magic!"

Elsa gasped – but when she turned to look for the young speaker, they had already passed by, and the crowd had swallowed the child up.

The guards had done a good job of forcing the crowds back, and she and Kai made good time to the park. Kai stopped the sleigh at the entrance, which was blocked with a royal blue ribbon. The mayor of Rosen was standing nearby, anxiously pulling at his lapels until he saw Kai helping Elsa out of the carriage.

"Your Majesty!" The mayor hurried forward, then, remembering himself, bowed, "Words cannot express how honored I am that you elected to open up the Festival this year! Might I hope that this is the beginning of a fine new tradition?" He grinned at her. Somewhat to her surprise, the grin looked wholly genuine to Elsa.

"I … cannot say for certain. But I would not want to trespass too far on your good nature, Master Mayor. I do understand that opening up the Winter Festival is traditionally one of the benefits of the office of mayor."

The mayor winced. "Well, if I am to be _completely_ honest, Your Majesty … there comes a time when one grows tired of ceremony. I am sure you would understand, of all people?" His smile was accompanied by a wink. "Besides … they expect _me_ to make a speech. You, all you have to do is cut the ribbon, smile, and look pretty, and everyone will be more than satisfied!"

Elsa laughed, or tried to, since she wasn't entirely sure that was as much of a compliment as the mayor seemed to think it was. She glanced at the assembled dignitaries. Most of them were representatives of the various guilds, aldermen of the city, and – Arud. Elsa tried not to wince. It was only natural he would be here as the representative from Letemark, but she had yet to reprimand him for his actions during her first meeting with the Weselton delegation, and now would not be the time.

The mayor noticed her glance and gasped, remembering himself. "Ah, Your Majesty, forgive me! I've been keeping you to myself all this time. Here, let me introduce you …" He lead her forward and the inevitable exchange of pleasantries began.

They occupied themselves in small talk for the next few minutes, at least until the mayor took his pocket watch from his waistcoat and glanced at it. "Only two minutes to ten … goodness, I wonder what's keeping the committee …"

"Here we are!" That was Anna's clear, ringing voice – the crowd sent up a cheer as her red pigtails bounced into view. She spared only a moment to wave at them before ducking under the ribbon. "Sorry about that! The judging took longer than we thought it would."

"Well," said Chancellor Tennfjord – Elsa wondered how she had been roped into the judging for the Winter Festival, but forbore to ask – "some of us had to spend a great deal of time exclaiming over every ice sculpture. And trying to determine who had made it." Even as the Chancellor rolled her eyes, there was something indulgent in the way she smiled at Anna.

"I just want to make sure that the best ice sculptor wins!" Anna replied, trying to make her smile look innocent and failing miserably.

Elsa shook her head and chuckled. Anna grabbed her arm. "So! Are we almost ready to get things open?"

"Oh, yes!" The mayor hurried forward. He took a pair of scissors from the pocket of his greatcoat and handed them to Elsa. "I'll introduce you, Your Majesty, and then you can open up the festival, and then," he clapped his gloved hands together, "we shall have a splendid day!"

Elsa tried to smile, but just taking the scissors was enough to make the nervousness bubble up within her. The way the crowd cheered when she flashed that nervous smile at them didn't help.

"People of Rosen!" called the mayor, signaling to the people to be quiet. "It is my great pleasure to—"

The sound of church bells from Rosen's great cathedral – ten o'clock – forced him to stop speaking. As soon as the last chime died away, the mayor sighed and shrugged. "Well, bully that! I said the festival would open at ten o'clock, and so it shall!" He waited only for the obligatory cheer to die down before turning to Elsa. "Your Majesty, will you do us the honors?"

What, _now_? Already? With no time to prepare?

"I …" Elsa coughed, as if to clear her throat, really to calm her nerves. She put the scissors against the ribbon. "I hereby declare this festival," she snipped, "to be open!"

The ribbon fell away, but Elsa had no time to wave to the crowd or show them the merest respect – Anna was already dragging Elsa inside, Kai just barely following behind. "Finally! Oh, Elsa, this is going to be so much fun! We're going to check out the different stalls, one of the old ladies has the most _adorable_ scarves and I think you and I should buy matching ones, and then we're going to get some hot chocolate, and then we're going to see every last ice sculpture and try to figure out which one is Kristoff's, because I looked and looked and couldn't figure it out—"

"Wait. Where is Kristoff?" Elsa looked around. "And Olaf?" She almost asked after Sven, too, but realized that he was probably with the sleigh.

… Probably.

"Oh, they're meeting us at the North Pavilion!"

"The … North Pavilion?"

"Yup! It's where we put all the food vendors!" Anna replied. "And there's a stage in the middle, too! We've got different musicians coming in every weekend, plus there are dancers, and we even managed to get the theater to put on a couple of little acts."

Elsa blinked. "I don't remember that from when we used to come as children."

"You wouldn't. This was my idea!" Anna continued to bound ahead, Elsa following as quickly as she could and wondering what else about the Festival had changed, and how much of that was due to Anna's influence.

Anna led way right to the scarf-vendor, a charming old lady who nearly fell off her stool when she saw the Princess and Queen making a beeline for her stall. "I told you I'd be back with Elsa, Mistress Larsdatter!"

"Yes, my dear – I mean Your Highness!" The old lady smiled nervously at Anna and Elsa, and Elsa smiled just as nervously back at her.

Then Anna started chattering, and Mistress Larsdatter turned to her, and all thoughts of nervousness were washed away with Anna's bubbly good spirits.

In the end they didn't get matching scarves. Anna selected a rich forest green scarf that she immediately wrapped around her neck, complete with matching cap, while Elsa found a snow-white fichu that she asked Mistress Larsdatter to wrap for her. Anna barely gave Kai enough time to settle the payment with Mistress Larsdatter before she was dragging Elsa off to another stall.

They spend about an hour dashing from stall to stall, oohing and aahing over the pretty things for sale, before finally making their way to the North Pavilion and food. Luckily Kristoff had already saved them a table, and luckily he was easy to find: he was the only one with at a table with an exited snowman dancing on top and a bored-looking reindeer chewing on a carrot standing next to them.

"Have a seat, my ladies," said Kai, pulling out one of the rough wooden benches so Anna and Elsa could slide onto it. "Now what can I get for you?"

"Hot chocolate for everybody!" replied Anna. "And let's see – oh, there's one lady selling cinnamon-coated pretzels, make sure you get a pretzel for all us, Kai. Now, what else …" Anna paused a minute, then she rattled off an order that would make for a substantial lunch for all of them, Kai, Kristoff, and even Sven included.

"Here, Kai," Kristoff said, standing up, "Let me help you get all of that."

"It's no trouble, Master Bjorgman."

"Don't be silly, with the way a certain someone eats," he nodded to Anna, "it's either going to take two people or two trips. And it's Kristoff."

"Well …" Kai clearly considered the logic of that. "If you _insist_ …"

Kai and Kristoff walked off. Elsa was fairly certain she heard another "Master Bjorgman" coming from Kai's direction. _Oh, Kristoff, you won't win that battle with Kai, no matter what others you may win!_

Anna scooted nearer to Elsa on the bench and wrapped a quick arm around her shoulder. "Isn't this the best?"

"It is," Elsa agreed.

Anna started talking about the rest of what she wanted to do for the day, and as she talked, Elsa let her gaze wander. One group of musicians was exiting the makeshift stage to make room for another group. She could see families sitting around the pavilion, people of all sorts talking, laughing, and eating. _So this is Arendelle,_ she thought. Everyone in one place, having a good time. When was the last time she had seen that?

Then she saw the Ambassador.

He was leaning against one of the columns of the pavilion, drinking something. As far as Elsa could tell, he was alone. He had a small half-smile on his face, and he seemed thoroughly absorbed in people watching.

Elsa turned away before he could realize that he had become one of the watched.

But as their meal progressed – even after Kristoff and Kai came back with more food than Elsa thought they could eat in a week, let alone one meal – Elsa kept glancing back at the Ambassador. He _was_ by himself. He didn't seem to mind too much, but …

Nobody else was all by themselves …

When they finished, somehow managing to finish all of that food, except for some chocolates that Anna stowed in her bag to save for later, the Ambassador was still standing by himself. Elsa bit her lip and glanced at Anna and Kristoff, Olaf and Kai, even Sven. "Excuse me a moment," she murmured, then slipped away.

She hurried across the pavilion, head ducked down and hoping no one was noticing her – at least not until she came to the Ambassador. "Ambassador?" she asked.

He straightened, blinking, and started to bow. "Your Maj—"

"No – no, please, there's no need to stand on ceremony." She tried to smile. "I just couldn't –" No, that wasn't the way to go about it. "Are you waiting for your party?" Elsa asked instead.

The Ambassador grinned a little ruefully and shrugged. "Alas, no. It's just me today. Master Grahn and Master Pilkvist …" He shrugged again.

"Oh. Well – would you like to join our party?" Elsa asked.

The Ambassador's jaw fell. "Truly?"

"I …" Elsa twisted her hands together, and since she had left her muff at the table, there was no hiding it from him. "The Winter Festival isn't something one should have to enjoy all by oneself …"

"I would be honored," the Ambassador replied. "That is – if—"

"Of course," Elsa answered. Before she quite knew what she was doing, she extended her arm in an inviting way. The Ambassador took it with a huge smile that made Elsa flush and stare at her skirts.

"So," the Ambassador asked as they began to walk. "Where is your party?"

Elsa chuckled. "I assure you, we're not difficult to find. Just look for the large mountain man, the reindeer, and the scampering snowman."

"… You know, that would set you apart from virtually every other group of people here."

"Or anywhere else, I'd imagine."

The Ambassador's only reply to that was a chuckle, and together they hurried back to Anna and the rest of the group.

Anna was the first to see them coming; her wide eyes told quite the story. She elbowed Kristoff, who turned to her, then to them, and then his eyes went wide too.

"Nick!" That, of course, was Olaf. "Hi, Nick!"

"Hello, Olaf," Nick replied. He barely had time to brace himself for a warm hug.

Meanwhile, Anna and Kristoff were looking at Elsa, then the Ambassador, then each other. When Anna looked back to Elsa, there was a question in her raised eyebrow that made Elsa flush again. Even if it wasn't like that.

Then she remembered her duty (at about the time Olaf let go of the Ambassador). "Um – anyway! Ambassador, Anna, you know each other," the Ambassador let go of her long enough to bow, Anna ducked in a hasty curtsey, "and you've met Master Andersson," Kai bowed slightly, "which leaves," Elsa took a deep breath, "Master Kristoff Bjorgman, Arendelle's Official Ice Master and Deliverer. Kristoff, this is Ambassador Solberg, of Weselton."

Kristoff's eyebrows had migrated somewhere into his hairline in the middle of that, and with no further ado he stuck his hand out to the Ambassador. "Hi. I'm Kristoff, Kristoff Bjorgman."

For some reason, the Ambassador … _grinned_? "Nick, Nick Solberg. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," replied Kristoff as they shook hands.

"Ok!" Anna said. "Now that we all know each other, we can go see the sculptures. Kristoff, you have to show us which one is yours!"

"No."

"No?"

"You haven't announced the winner yet!"

"So? The judging's all in! I can't change anything now."

"Oh! Oh, well, in _that_ case …" Kristoff grinned, grabbed Anna's hand, and the two of them scampered into the park, Olaf and Sven following and Kai doing his best to keep up.

The Ambassador glanced sidelong at Elsa, then hesitantly offered his arm. "Your Majesty?"

"Thank you," she said, taking it, and they followed her sister and her mountain man into the park.

They didn't make it to Kristoff's ice sculpture first. There were too many others to see and exclaim over. There was a water well, complete with chain and bucket, titled "I'm Wishing," and a mermaid sunning herself on a rock called "Part of Your World." A carving of a tin soldier, missing one leg but featuring hat and crossbow, was called "Steadfast." Anna exclaimed over an orangutan sitting on a throne, called "I Wanna Be Like You," and Elsa noticed how the Ambassador's steps slowed when they passed a table set with a teapot and cup, candelabra, and mantel clock called "Be Our Guest." As for Elsa, her favorite was the darling little fawn splayed on what had to be a frozen pond, looking at his legs with a puzzled expression. That one was called "A Little Wobbly."

"Are you kidding?" Anna asked as they stopped to look. "This isn't yours?" she asked Kristoff.

"… No?" Kristoff replied. He glanced at Sven, who shrugged.

"But—but it's a reindeer! I was almost sure it was yours!"

"No, it's not."

"Yes, you said it wasn't, I _got_ that—"

"No, I mean – it's not a _reindeer_."

Elsa had to hide her mouth behind her hand so Anna wouldn't see her giggling.

"It's … not?" Anna asked.

Kristoff shook his head.

"Then … what is it?"

Kristoff tilted his head to one side and scratched his head. "Dunno. Maybe a white-tail dear? Maybe a roe deer. Kind of hard to tell when it's just … ice."

"… I guess," Anna replied. "Well! Then you have to show us yours!"

"All right, all right, hold your horses, feistypants."

Kristoff led the way to where his ice sculpture was installed. And when Elsa saw it, she wondered how Anna could have thought anyone but Kristoff created it.

After all, there were fewer than a dozen people who had seen her ice palace, and as far as Elsa knew, only one of them was in the contest.

"… This _was_ my second guess," Anna said when they came to a stop in front of the sculpture.

Elsa felt a slight tug on her arm – the Ambassador, adjusting his spectacles and moving a little closer to the sculpture. Elsa let go of him and waved him forward, while she stepped back.

"Fascinating," the Ambassador murmured, circling around the sculpture.

"You – you like it, Nick?" asked Kristoff. Elsa would have been deaf not to hear the pride in his voice.

"It's extraordinary!" The Ambassador looked up and down the sculpture, taking in the soaring towers, the balconies, and everything else. "I've never seen a castle based on a hexagonal shape before. Where did you get the inspiration, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, that's easy, I—" Kristoff started, then he turned toward Elsa, probably to say exactly where he got the idea.

Elsa was shaking her head, and Kristoff's mouth clicked shut. "It … um, just came to me."

"Just came to you?" Olaf started. "Kristoff, what are you—oof! Anna!"

Anna had dropped to the ground and was giving Olaf a big hug. "Olaf—I just remembered, it's been too long since I gave you a warm hug!"

"D'aww, Anna, that's nice of you!"

Over Olaf's head, Anna winked at Elsa. Elsa smiled back.

As the Ambassador continued to circle the sculpture and examine it from every angle, Kai sidled next to Elsa. "Did Master Bjorgman do it justice, Your Majesty?"

Elsa swallowed, but she had to nod. It didn't catch the light the way her ice palace did, but every detail that Kristoff could capture with his blade had been captured.

Her reverie was interrupted by the chiming of the bells – quarter to two. Elsa blinked. Where had the time gone?

Anna gasped. "Crap! I have to announce the winners in fifteen minutes! Come on, Elsa!" Anna grabbed Elsa's hand and dragged her forward. "We have to get back to the North Pavilion!"

"Wait – _we_? Anna, you didn't say I had anything to do with this!"

"You don't! Well, ok, I said you'd hand out the prizes, but that's easy! All you have to do is smile and hand out the medals!"

Elsa sighed as she gathered her skirts in one hand and jogged with Anna. "You know, Anna – one of these days, you and I need to have a talk about _proper warnings_."

"If I gave you proper warnings you'd never agree to anything! Now, come on!" Anna (somehow) picked up speed, and it was all Elsa could do to keep up.

They made it back to the North Pavilion, scooting around the crowds that were already forming. Anna dashed up the steps while Elsa tried to make her way up with something resembling dignity. "Hi!" Anna said, a little breathlessly, when she got to the top. "We're not late, are we?"

"Ah, royalty is never late," replied Chancellor Tennfjord with a faint smile, "everyone else is merely early. However, I will point out that we were a bit worried about _how_ early we were going to be, until you arrived."

Elsa flushed, but all Anna said was, "Phew! So we're not late. Ok, Elsa, you're handing out the prizes …" Anna looked around and grabbed the three medals. Gold, silver, and bronze – or, if Elsa's eyes were any judge, almost gold, silver-ish, and more-or-less bronze. "The prize is mostly bragging rights," said Anna with a shrug. "I wanted the medals, but we didn't have much of a budget for them."

Elsa weighed the medals in her hand. They were simple, but they were something tangible. Real. More lasting than the memories or even the sculptures. "I don't think anyone will be complaining, Anna. It's a lovely touch. Just like everything else you came up with."

Elsa hadn't even thought before she spoke, but when she looked up, Anna was beaming. "_Really_, Elsa? You really think that?"

"Of co—"

She didn't get a chance to finish; Anna practically tackled her. "Thank you so much, Elsa. That means a lot, coming from you."

"You—you're welcome. You're always welcome," Elsa answered, hugging her little sister back.

Anna's hugs were even warmer than Olaf's.

Chancellor Tennfjord coughed, and just after her cough, the cathedral bells began to ring. "Right! Prizes! Winners!" Anna said. She turned around, and while they waited for the bells to quiet, she waved to the crowd.

The crowd's cheer completely drowned out the bells.

"Hello, everybody!" Anna replied as soon as the bells died down. "Is everyone having a good time?"

That cheer was even louder than the first.

"Great! Well, then I hope you'll be back for next weekend, and the weekend after that, and so on! There will be food and vendors here every weekend, as long as the weather isn't too bad, and the sculptures will be up all winter. So make sure to bring your friends and families if they haven't been here yet!" Anna cleared her throat. "However! I'm sure you didn't want to hear the schedule. You wanted to hear the prizes!"

This time, hats went up in the air as the cheer came up.

"Unfortunately, we can't do that just yet. First I want to thank everyone else on the committee, Chancellor Tennfjord, Master Spillum, Mistress Hagebak …"

After six months on the throne, Elsa had a very good sense of when she needed to listen, and when it was appropriate to smile, look attentive, and let her mind wander. So she did so, though her eyes were a little busier. She hoped Kristoff, Kai, Sven and Olaf were close.

_There they are!_ Sven was the only reindeer in the crowd, which made finding everyone else that much easier. The Ambassador was still with them. For some reason this made Elsa smile.

"… but now that we've gotten that out of the way, on to the prizes!" Anna finished. "The envelope, please?" she asked the Chancellor.

Chancellor Tennfjord pulled a slim white envelope out of her sleeve. "Third place," she murmured.

"I know – so, for third place," Anna pitched her voice to carry, "the bronze medal, and bragging rights for the next year, we have the sculpture 'I Got No Strings,' by Josef Danielsen!"

Josef Danielsen was an older man with a shock of white hair, a mustache, and a pair of spectacles perched on a large red nose. He grinned openly as he came up to the stage to receive his medal; then he bowed to the crowd. Soon, though, he was ushered off the stage to make way for the next winner.

"Ok, for second place …" Chancellor Tennfjord passed the second envelope to Anna, "we have 'Mistress of All Evil' – oh, that one was _good_, I'm going to get nightmares from that one! – by Frida Matsdatter!"

Frida, a short young woman with a red bonnet and a red cloak, bounded up to the stage. She gratefully accepted the medal from Elsa and made her curtsey to the crowd.

Then it was time for the winner to be announced. Chancellor Tennfjord handed Anna the third envelope. Anna's hands were trembling; Elsa moved forward almost without realizing it.

"All right, everybody, this is it – the big one! The winner of the first place gets not only an almost-gold medal," Elsa held it up obligingly to a cheer, "but, I'm told, bragging rights forever! And the winner is …" Anna ripped open the envelope and read it.

She gasped. "Kristoff!" She waved the sheet of paper. "Kristoff, you WON!"

Elsa was grateful for her vantage point; the shocked expression on Kristoff's face was one she would remember until the day she died. "What do mean, I won?"

"You WON! You won, it's right here!" Anna jumped up and down. "Come and look at it if you don't believe me, you big lunk!"

"I believe you!" Kristoff made his way through the crowd. "I just can't believe I won!"

"Well, believe it!" Anna took a few steps backward.

"Anna, wait, what are you—" Elsa started.

Anna took running leap off the stage, her arms out and cloak flying – Elsa couldn't look, but she had to look, she had to create a snow pile in face Anna missed –

She didn't miss. She landed right in Kristoff's arms, and he spun her in a full circle before finally setting her down again. Elsa let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

Then she looked away, because she had found that not witnessing public and improper displays of affection between Anna and Kristoff was the only foolproof scheme she had to ensure that she wouldn't have to do anything about them.

Unfortunately, she would have had to be much more naïve and sheltered than she already was to not know why everyone was suddenly cheering.

When Elsa figured they must have run out of air, she dared to look down. Kristoff and Anna were still locked in each other's arms, staring into each other's eyes. Elsa coughed. "Anna?"

Anna looked up. "Oh!" Elsa held out the medal. "Thanks, Elsa!" Elsa tossed it down, and Anna put it on Kristoff's neck, Kristoff beaming all the while. Then they hugged again, and Elsa thought it prudent to look away.

"However, everybody!" Anna called out after what felt like an eternity, "We have another surprise for you! Come on, Elsa!"

_Come on, Elsa?_ "Anna?"

Anna was looking up with that big, hopeful smile, and those big, hopeful eyes, and Elsa had a feeling that she wasn't going to be able to say no to whatever was coming next.

However, she still had her dignity. So even though Kristoff wordlessly offered to catch her if she wanted to leap of the stage, she took the stairs.

"Come on!" Anna hooked her arm through Elsa's and led them forward in a pace that was just shy of a run. Elsa could hear the rest of the crowd following.

Anna led the way to the pond in the middle of the park, frozen over now more or less. "Here it is, Elsa!"

"Here … what is?"

"The space for your masterpiece! Make something!" Anna clapped her hands and moved back.

Elsa barely held back a gasp. She glanced over her shoulder at the assembled crowd. Kristoff and Olaf (and Sven) were at the forefront, all looking very eager, even Sven. But everyone else …

She could only see smiling faces, but the faces up front would be smiling, wouldn't they? They would be the eager ones, the curious ones. The hostile ones, the annoyed ones, they'd see no reason to hurry and so would be hostile and annoyed in the back, where she couldn't see them.

"Elsa." Anna's hand was on her arm, a big smile on her face. "Everyone will love it. _I promise_. We all want to see what you can do."

"I …"

Elsa had kept her door closed to her sister for thirteen years because of _that face_. That face she could never say no to. And it was being turned on her now.

She tried to smile in reply. "All right."

"Yay, she's going to do it!" The crowd cheered in reply.

Elsa turned back to the pond. She frowned. Then she started to pace.

She paced for a few minutes before Anna spoke. "Um … Elsa …"

"I'm thinking." She sent a rueful smile to her sister. "I told you, Anna. Proper warning."

"Ah. Right."

Elsa continued to pace. She looked again at her canvas –

And then she had it.

She strode forward to the pond. It wasn't safe enough to walk on, at least for anyone who wasn't Elsa. But the moment Elsa's foot hovered over it, an extra foot of ice grew from the surface of the pond, just to be safe. She stepped onto the ice.

Then she started to create.

She moved all around the ice, her hands wafting through the air as the pictures in her mind took shape on the ice around her. It wasn't perfect. She didn't have enough time, enough study, to make it perfect. But … it would do, for now.

When she was finished, Elsa turned to Anna and the crowd.

She saw many fallen jaws, not least of which were Anna's and Kristoff's. Elsa tried to smile. "It's – it's –"

"It's ROSEN!" shouted Olaf, jumping into the air. "WOW, Elsa! That's amazing!"

And it was. It was the whole city, in miniature – the palace wasn't even as tall as Elsa – not quite to scale, not quite perfect, but there, and recognizable.

"The—the ice is thick enough to skate in the fjords," Elsa said. "Er … metaphorically speaking. As long as not too many people come out at once." When nobody else seemed inclined to say anything, she asked, "Do … do you like it?"

"Do we LIKE it?" answered Olaf, again. "We LOVE IT!"

And for once, Olaf seemed to speak for everybody, for the crowd cheered, and hats were thrown in the air, and Anna ran onto the ice and hugged Elsa, and for once, just for _once_, Elsa felt like she was in the middle of a group of people who might actually like her.

* * *

"… and then the whole crowd started to cheer, and it was just disgusting," sighed the voice above Olaf – Roahl, Olaf thought. He remembered him and his friend Knut from earlier in the week, the last time he'd been at the Priest and Fish.

They had nearly ruined his evening last week with the nasty things they said. Olaf was afraid they were gearing up for a repeat.

"The multitude always will cheer a spectacle, Roahl," replied Knut. "It's bread and circuses, my friend, that's all."

Roahl sighed. "We could us a little more bread in my quarter of the world and a few less circuses."

Knut tapped his mug on the table; Olaf could hear every last metallic clink. "The delegation has not even been negotiating for a week …"

"And _she_ threw your petition right in your face. I'm not holding out hope that we'll get the embargo lifted before spring."

"Perhaps a bit more public pressure. Perhaps Cicero—"

"Oh, gods, not Cicero _again_!" Roahl sighed. "Have you even gotten Hummel to print another Cicero letter?"

Silence, then more tapping of the cup. "The problem with Hummel," Knut finally replied, "is that he's a man whose loyalty can be rented, but not bought."

"He's not going to print another?"

"Oh, he will. _When he has the space_," Knut scoffed. "He has no understanding of the stakes."

"No. He just wants to sell more newspapers. Huh." Roahl chuckled. It was the kind of chuckle that made Olaf feel shivery, and not in a good way. "His is probably the only business that's improved since she took over."

"Unfortunately, you might be correct. And unfortunately for us, the _Times_ is still the best-regarded paper in the city, if not the country."

"Meaning it's the one the toffs read."

"… Yes," Knut agreed.

"And if we can't get the toffs on our side, we've got no one."

"Well …" Olaf watched as Knut leaned back in his chair, rising and falling on his toes. "There may be … other ways to get the people's attention. We may not require the support of the aristocracy. _That_ was going to be enough of an uphill battle anyway. Perhaps if we can get the common people on our side – surely there are enough sailors and dockworkers out of work …"

"Maybe. Maybe not. You forget, this is a slow season for them, the sailors especially. They might have hope things'll pick up by spring."

"Surely all men of good conscience …"

"Hang good conscience, Knut. Conscience doesn't move men, bread does." Roahl paused. "And maybe the occasional circus."

"Hmm. Perhaps … perhaps we've been going about this the wrong way. Mere newspaper articles … sure, that was how the Americans started things, but—"

"Oh, you and your Americans!" Roahl sighed, the table seemed to tremble as if a weight had suddenly been lifted from it. "How many times do I have to tell you that Arendelle isn't America? Our problem isn't an ocean away, it's right here. It's not going mad, either. And it's got all the wealthy and influential men in its back pocket."

"So you say. But I say – perhaps a few pamphlets devoted specifically to the issue, instead of using the _Times_, perhaps some street speeches, something to get the people riled up—"

"Which is all well and good of you to say, but who's going to pay attention to a political pamphlet? I've never bought one of the things in my life! Face it, unless you have some big trick up your sleeve, nobody's going to pay attention."

"That – that cannot be the case. The Americans—"

"I'm telling you, the Americans don't matter! That was there, this was now. Even if they didn't—" Roahl stopped suddenly.

"Roahl?" asked Knut. "Roahl, are you all right?"

"But they did, didn't they?" Roahl asked.

"Did—didn't do? Did _what_?"

"The tea – the tea in the river. What city was it? Baltimore? The Baltimore Tea Party?"

"What? Oh—you mean the destruction of the tea in Boston Harbor?"

"Yes—yes, that! That's what the Americans did! Something big, something to get everyone's attention!" Roahl pounded his fist on the table; then he lowered his voice so Olaf could barely hear him. "That's what we need. Some big demonstration, something that will get people's to notice … something …" He jumped in his seat. "I have it!"

"Oh?"

Olaf heard the chairs scraping and barely scampered away as the two men got closer to each other, right where he was sitting a second before. He could only hear snatches of the conversation.

"If _I_ …"

"Yes?"

"Then _we_ …"

"No! Would she?"

"Guess."

"Ah, now I get it!"

Then Olaf heard a chuckle, one that made him shiver. "Let's go."

* * *

**You knew I couldn't end on a happy note when the whole chapter was happy, didn't you? Review, favorite, follow – I appreciate feedback of all sorts. Thanks in advance!**

**Also, I will be awarding 10 Internets to whomever can name all of the Disney references in this chapter. Results will be posted at the beginning of next chapter. ;)  
**


	10. In Deep, Deep, Deep, Deep Snow

**Well, thank you to all of the lovely commenters who participated in the "contest"! CrunchdeNumbers and Ryu Kitsune Bard84, you both got all the sculptures, so you both win 10 WHOLE INTERNETS! Yay!**

**On another note, I also want to let people know that this chapter has a high T/low M rating. There is a discussion of pornographic/obscene pictures that takes place in the second scene. Nothing is graphically described, but I thought I'd post a warning. If this is triggering to you or you just don't want to read it, shoot me a PM and I'll give you the quick summary so you can skip over it.**

**Anyway, enough from me, on with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 10: In Deep, Deep, Deep, Deep Snow

"I don't understand," Anna murmured.

Elsa put her arm around her little sister's shoulder. It was all she could do as they surveyed the scene of devastation in front of them.

They were back in the park. The first guests had started wandering in around dawn, people who wanted to see the sculptures ahead of the crowd. When they saw what was left of the sculptures, they had run for the town guards, who in turn had notified the captain, who in turn had notified Elsa and Anna. Anna had insisted on seeing for herself, and Elsa came with her.

Elsa hadn't been prepared for this: the sculptures smashed and strewn about in pieces, jagged ice sticking out of the ground like the ice spikes that appeared around her when she was at her most frightened. The head of the adorable little fawn from yesterday lay at Elsa's feet; the place where the sculpture had stood was over fifty feet away.

"Who … who would do something like this?" Anna asked, looking around her, her face fallen. "They were just … pretty sculptures. Why would anyone want to destroy them?"

"Have they all been damaged?" Elsa asked their companion, Captain Vilmarsen.

The Captain was smoking a foul-smelling cigar, and more than once Elsa had summoned up a little winter breeze to ensure the smoke stayed firmly downwind. He took a deep drag of it, then puffed it out. "Yes."

"… Why?" asked Anna again.

Captain Vilmarsen's gaze slipped sidelong to the two of them. "Well … we've got two theories competing. The first … it's winter, the sailors are home, and they've got nothing to do until spring. So what do they do? Go to a bar, get drunk as a—very drunk person, and …" The Captain spread his arms. "Voila."

"Somebody ruined the festival just because they got drunk?" Anna asked in a very small voice.

"A lot of somebodies, in this case." The Captain pulled out a small notebook and flipped through it. "Neighbors said they heard a commotion around midnight. Lasted about half an hour. One person, two, they couldn't do this kind of damage in half an hour."

"If … if some public drunkenness was all it was," Elsa murmured, "then perhaps … perhaps I could fix it." She lifted her hand and let a blue light glow.

Captain Vilmarsen didn't blink. He was one of the few people in Arendelle who was not afraid of her powers – or perhaps "stubbornly unimpressed" was a better way of putting it. "Maybe. But that's only if theory number one is correct." He sighed. "You're going to need to walk to see theory number two."

Captain Vilmarsen stumped over the hill, leaving Elsa shepherd Anna along behind him as best as she could.

They came to the top of the hill, which overlooked the pond. Captain Vilmarsen jerked his thumb toward the pond. "I'm sure you can guess what theory number two is."

Anna gasped. "Oh my gods … Elsa …"

Elsa swallowed. If she thought the destruction of the rest of the statues had been savage, it was nothing compared to this.

Somebody had taken a sledgehammer – or perhaps an ice pick – to her miniature Rosen. There wasn't a single building undamaged. And the palace … the palace was gone. Crushed to icy powder. If Elsa's eyes told her truly, someone had even attacked the area of the ice on which the palace had sat, chopping until they hit water and letting the water re-freeze.

"And then there's the matter of the winning sculpture. The … ice palace," Captain Vilmarsen continued.

"What—what happened to it?" asked Anna.

"Gone," replied the Captain. "Destroyed. My men haven't found any scraps that could be from it. At least, nothing they can say for sure."

Anna covered her mouth with both hands. "But … Kristoff worked so hard on that … they _all_ worked so hard on their sculptures …"

She turned around, surveying the broken ice across the park. "And what about the vendors? And the musicians? Who's going to come on the weekend if there aren't any sculptures to look at?" Anna turned to Captain Vilmarsen. "What am I supposed to tell them? They were supposed to make money! It—it was supposed to be a great festival!"

Mournfully, she looked around. "It was supposed to be the best festival ever …"

"I'm sorry, Anna," Elsa whispered, not daring to touch her sister now, not wanting to be shaken off.

"Why? It's not your fault … why would people _do _this?"

Elsa glanced sidelong at Captain Vilmarsen. He met her gaze and puffed on his cigar.

Finally he sighed. "Probably as a way of showing they don't approve of the Queen's powers."

Anna spun. "Wait, what?"

"It's … it's the Winter Festival, Anna," Elsa murmured. "And I was involved. Not nearly as much as you!" she said hurriedly, lest her sister think she was trying to take credit where it wasn't due. "But I opened it, I gave the prizes, and I …" She gestured to the lake. "Someone—someone was probably doing this because they thought it would hurt me."

_And they were right,_ she thought, watching Anna's face crumple all over again as she looked from Elsa to the lake to the Captain and back to Elsa again.

"But …" Anna whispered, surveying the devastation around her. "But … you …"

"I'll make it up to you, Anna!" Elsa heard herself cry out. She wanted to move closer, but her feet seemed frozen to the earth. "I—maybe I _can_ fix it. Maybe I can—"

"It wouldn't be the same," Anna shook her head. "It's … it wouldn't be the same." She bit her lip and looked around, then turned back to Elsa. "Besides, why should you make it up to me? It's not your fault."

_It's not your fault._ Elsa let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, loud enough that the Captain turned to her with a raised eyebrow. She lifted up her chin and fixed him with an icy gaze before going up to Anna and putting her arm around her shoulder. She finally had permission for it.

Anna smiled hollowly as she looked around. "I don't know what I'm going to tell the sculptors. Or the vendors."

"You'll tell them that the town guard is putting all – appropriate – resources into finding out who did this. Captain, I want the perpetrators of this vandalism found and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

Elsa was sure that if her father had said those words, that would have been the end of it. Captain Vilmarsen, however, took a long drag of his cigar and looked around. "I see. And what do you think that extent is?"

Elsa blinked.

"Look, Your Majesty, I understand that you're upset," Captain Vilmarsen replied. "And I don't blame you. But the punishment for vandalism like this depends on the value of the property that was destroyed. And … well …" The Captain shrugged. "This would have all been a puddle by spring."

"That doesn't mean they're worthless!" Anna fired back. "And what about the festival? And the vendors, and the musicians? If this is about money, they're going to be losing money!"

Captain Vilmarsen sighed. "I'm sure the lawyers would have a field day with that one." He spoke the words _the lawyers_ as most people would say _the murderers_ or _the tax collectors_.

"So … there's nothing we can do?" Anna whispered.

"We'll find out who did this," the Captain replied. "We'll keep an eye on them. And if we're lucky …" He looked around. "This'll be the worst that they do."

* * *

They were not lucky.

As January stretched into February, the vandals – assuming that it was the same group of people acting every time – struck again and again. Before winter had set in, Elsa had gone around town at Anna's instigation and frozen the water in several of the fountains into fantastic shapes. No fewer than three of those fountains were damaged, and all of Elsa's sculptures were destroyed. The statue of the first Queen Elsa at the Royal Institute had obscene graffiti painted onto it, complete with comments that made it clear that the vandals had no grudge against the long-dead queen but rather were upset with her namesake. Slogans started appearing on walls all over town. There were also several bar fights near the docks with requisite property damage, but Captain Vilmarsen and the Council both agreed that was normal for this time of year.

But in Elsa's view, and she hated herself for it, all of that was nothing compared to the pamphlets.

The pamphlets started appearing mid-January. By the first week of February, when the Council took it upon itself to hold a discussion on them, at least a dozen had appeared. The text of the pamphlets expressed the same spirit as the slogans, albeit in slightly more educated language. Every one of them argued that Elsa was unfit to be queen for some reason or another. She had broken off trade with one of their biggest partners within days of her coronation. She was unreasonable and unmoved by the plight of her citizens. Her actions since coming to the throne had been wholly selfish.

Funnily, none of them mentioned the eternal winter. But it lurked in the background of every text … and it was quite, quite apparent in the accompanying illustrations.

There was no doubting that the woman in the illustrations was meant to be Elsa. The artist copied her facial features – large eyes, heart-shaped face, hair in that French braid – precisely. As for the rest of her body – which was generally open to view in the pictures – the artist had used his imagination rather liberally.

Elsa assumed the artist was a he. It was all too clear that the hand that had made those drawings, showing Elsa in one compromising picture after another, had relished what he was doing. He showed her doing things with icicles, with snowmen, with _Olaf_ that Elsa would have never dreamed of doing herself. If she spent too long looking at them, the humiliation made her want to be sick.

But now the pamphlets were lying open on the Council table, her Councilors were pawing all over them, and Elsa knew that she had to conceal everything, be strong, don't feel, because a Queen could not go hide in her room just because some dirty-minded people were writing dirty-minded things.

She folded her hands on the table, sat up straight as she had been taught since she was a girl, and tried to compose her face into a mask of regal indifference. She waited for one of the councilors to speak first.

It was Bishop Elias who broke the silence, and Elsa had never been more grateful to him. "Your—Your Majesty, this is an outrage! Such filth!" He threw the pamphlet he was holding down onto the table with no little force. "That people have such depraved imaginations – it's unthinkable!"

"Yet here we are," replied Chancellor Tennfjord. She had seen every single one of the pamphlets – they often landed on her desk before they went to Elsa's – yet still she methodically turned through each.

"Indeed, Chancellor." Arud was the next to speak and Elsa tried not to wince. "Your Majesty, I cannot help but notice that these are very serious accusations, and most of them have to do with Weselton—"

"This one's all about that bas—er—that blighter Hans Westergaard," interrupted Jarl Caspar.

Arud glanced at the Jarl, sighed and rolled his eyes. "As I was saying. _Most _of them have to do with Weselton. We should move the negotiations along more quickly. Perhaps these malcontents might find something better to do with their time once we have reopened trade."

A rich, throaty chuckle rippled through the chamber. Elsa glanced down the table at the chuckler, Renate Omdahl, representative of the province of Sorgaland. "That would be a brilliant idea, Stigr," she said, "except I can guarantee you that no one is buying these things for the articles."

She let the pamphlet she was holding fall. Elsa's stomach churned when she saw that Councilor Omdahl had managed to pick up the one that showed her exclusively with Anna.

Councilor Omdahl straightened in her seat. Every eye – even Elsa's – turned to her. Councilor Omdahl had that way about her. A tall, handsome woman in her middle fifties, the Councilor had brilliant red hair, soulful dark eyes, and a voluptuous figure that she never failed to accentuate. Rumor had it that she had first been appointed Sorgaland's representative because she had been the mistress of the governor of that province; rumor also had it that she had a different lover in each coach inn from Rosen to her home in Sorgaland.

However, what Elsa knew from experience was that Councilor Omdahl had a way of getting what she wanted in Council, and though Elsa hadn't quite worked out how she did it, there was no denying that the woman was effective.

"In fact, if you polled the men in the street buying these things," she chuckled again, "I bet at least half of them wouldn't be able to tell you what they said."

"That's hardly helpful to our present situation, Renate," Chancellor Tennfjord growled.

"On the contrary, Gudrun, I found it immensely helpful," replied Councilor Vang. Elsa winced. Halvor Vang was the oldest of her Councilors; he had been the representative of Alemecht since her grandfather's time. And since she had come to the throne, he had only one answer for practically every problem of her reign.

Elsa tried to head it off while there was still time. "Councilor, I am not going to get married just to stop some …" She glanced at the pile of pamphlets with what she hoped was only mild distaste. "Some scurrilous pamphlets."

"But the pamphlets are only the symptom, Your Majesty!" Councilor Vang replied. "The people are understandably feeling restive. And they choose to express it in … less-than-tasteful ways. If you had a strong husband by your side, guiding your reign—"

_If I had a "strong husband" of the kind you prefer by my side, I'd be spending every waking moment fending off his attempts to take my country out from under me,_ Elsa thought. _More importantly, who wants to marry the Ice Queen?_

"—and moreover," Councilor Vang was somehow still talking, "only the most depraved of minds would create such … filth about a respectable wife and mother, whereas you being a single woman opens up all sorts of … unfortunate speculation."

Elsa didn't have to answer that right away; the Chancellor was staring down at Councilor Vang over her spectacles. "Halvor, I was Regent for three years, and I was a single woman, too. Somehow no one saw fit to make these kinds of pamphlets about me."

"Er – well – the circumstances are different in that case—"

"Oh, truly? How so?" The Chancellor had a gaze that could burn through a brick wall, and she was turning the full force of it on Councilor Vang.

"I'll say it if you won't," Councilor Omdahl replied. "Gudrun, don't take this the wrong way, but nobody in their right mind wants to picture you," she lifted up a pamphlet whose interior illustration showed Elsa with Olaf's nose, "like this."

Chancellor Tennfjord frowned, but apparently she had no argument against that.

"However, that being said, I do agree that simply marrying off the Queen isn't going to solve this little problem. In fact, if we're going to worry about a problem, I'd worry about what the pamphlets are saying, not what they're showing."

"But," Jarl Caspar replied, "you just said that nobody is buying them for the articles!"

"Quite. But if you'll notice, the illustrations and the text have nothing to do with each other. Which says to me that someone is _selling_ them with the illustrations in the hopes that people will read the articles. Not a bad strategy, really. A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down."

Elsa took a deep breath, moved her hands beneath the table, and created a snowball to squeeze. Her heart was already starting to pound, and if she didn't do something, the room was going to get very, very cold, very, very quickly.

Unfortunately, her actions were not unobserved. Bishop Elias was watching her closely. "Your Majesty, are you all right? We all understand that this …" He gestured to the table. "It must be very upsetting. If you need a few moments alone, you only have to say so."

The temperature of the room did drop as every eye in the room turned to her; even Elsa could notice it. She didn't dare look around the table, sure it would only take one less-than-sympathetic gaze to cause a minor blizzard. She added a bit more snow to her little ball and squeezed harder.

Elsa only looked at Bishop Elias, because his was the only face she _knew_ would show complete understanding. "I thank you, Bishop. However, we have a problem to solve. And," she added as a hint of skepticism crept over his features, "I think that solving it as quickly as possible will be best for me, personally."

The Bishop nodded with a small, sad smile. Elsa dared a quick glance around the table to see more nods. She sat up straighter (if that were possible), though she kept her hands locked around her snowball. "Now, if anyone has any ideas …"

Madam Voll, who thus far had been quiet, drew one of the pamphlets closer. "Well … Your Majesty, I understand that you want to protect the freedom of the press, but if this isn't _lèse-majesté_, I don't know what is."

"The pictures or the articles?" asked Councilor Omdahl.

"The pictures mostly, they're the most flagrantly offensive. The articles …" Madam Voll squinted at the pamphlet in front of her. "This one isn't quite offensive enough to justify a charge. I'd have to look at all of them to be sure. However, any one of these illustrations would be more than sufficient—"

"Don't," interrupted Councilor Omdahl.

Madam Voll blinked at the Councilor from behind her pince-nez. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't," repeated Councilor Omdahl. She turned to Elsa. "Believe me, Your Majesty, as much as you'd like to call for the headsmen on these men, don't. If you take offense—well, if you _show_ that you're offended—everyone will believe that there might be something to it. If you act like all of this is beneath your notice, too absurd to be credited, that's what the people will believe."

"Oh, indeed?" asked Chancellor Tennfjord, more than a little acidly. "And would you happen to know this from experience, Renate?"

Councilor Omdahl flashed a brilliant smile. "As it so happens, I would." She glanced again at Elsa. "So take it from someone who has been there. Hold your head high, and if anyone dares to ask you about this, tell them you never thought they were the type to read such trash."

Elsa allowed herself another glance around the table. More than a few of her male Councilors were looking a bit red and embarrassed, though the Bishop seemed more than a little indignant. Madam Voll was scowling. "These also fit textbook definitions of obscenity. Are you suggesting we ignore that, too?"

"If this was about anyone other than the Queen, I would say do as you wish. However, given that it is …" Councilor Omdahl shrugged. "If you insist on a prosecution, I would suggest you wait until all of this calms down, and then try to do it as quietly as possible."

Madam Voll's nostrils flared, and she grabbed her knitting. The needles began clacking with abandon.

Elsa frowned and tried her best to think this through. If Councilor Omdahl was right …

_She is,_ whispered the voice of – what? Fear? Reason? – in Elsa's mind. _Try to prosecute anyone, and _everyone_ will be talking about these pamphlets if they aren't already. Pretend they're not happening …_

She stared at the distasteful pile. _And perhaps, sooner or later, they won't be._

"Madam Voll," Elsa began. The Chief Justiciar looked up. "I think it might be worthwhile to take Councilor Omdahl's advice – for the time being. Let us see if this … scandal will blow over on its own first. If it does not, harsher measures may be taken."

Since Elsa was deciding not to act, she technically did not need the Council's agreement. All the same, she looked around the table. "Are there any serious objections?"

"We should still find out where this filth is coming from," Chancellor Tennfjord said. "If only so that when—or if—you do decide to prosecute, you can move swiftly. And frankly, if we unnerve them into not publishing any more, that will be so much the better."

_Hear, hear!_ "An excellent point, Chancellor. Are you averse to opening up an investigation?"

"I shall send a note down to Captain Vilmarsen immediately after our meeting."

Elsa nodded. "Thank you. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I think it's high time Minister Falk filled us in on how the negotiations with Weselton are going. Minister Falk?"

"Yes. Indeed. Well, since we met last week, we have made some progress, although we're still having a hard time coming to agreement on the question of ice tariffs …"

Minister Falk kept speaking, and Elsa leaned back, daring to relax and daring to hope that this part of the meeting would be a little less stressful than the last.

* * *

"Your Majesty, are you _sure_ you're all right?"

Elsa looked up to see the Ambassador staring at her with what had to be genuine concern.

They were in the empty guards' courtyard, whiling away that hour between when work was done and when it was time to change for dinner. Elsa didn't go there every day, just when she needed some time for herself in the bracing cold. The Ambassador didn't show up every time, either. But he was there … enough. Yes. That was the word for it. Enough that she had grown to expect him to be there, and enough that when he wasn't there, there was a part of Elsa that felt faintly disappointed.

She sighed and looked away. "It's … not something I can discuss."

"State secrets?" asked the Ambassador with a lopsided grin.

Elsa chuckled, a weak thing with no mirth in it. "I wish."

She glanced sidelong at him after she spoke. The Ambassador's brows were knit together and his head was tilted to one side. He had no idea what she was talking about.

Elsa let out a sigh of something like relief. But why would it make a difference if the Ambassador had seen the pamphlets? If Councilor Omdahl was to be believed, half the men in Rosen had, and they'd thoroughly enjoyed it, too. What difference did one man more or less make?

Elsa took a deep breath and looked up at the slim patch of sky she could see from here. The stars just started to come out. "So …"

"So …"

Elsa chuckled. Somehow they had managed to talk about just about anything and everything in their conversations here. One night the Ambassador had stood next to her, pointing animatedly, naming all the stars that were in their field of vision and talking about scientific experiments taking place in other lands that were trying to determine what the stars might be made of. He'd been unusually excited, discussing the possibilities for setting up an observatory in Weselton because the long winter nights were ideal for stargazing. But then he'd stopped, and Elsa had realized that those plans had probably been scuttled when Arendelle cut off trade.

There were some things they hadn't talked about, though. Elsa blurted out the first that came to mind. "What was your childhood like?"

Then she kicked herself. "I'm sorry, that was terribly personal; I don't know what's come over me—"

"Wait. Your Majesty." The Ambassador chuckled, and Elsa felt her face start to heat up. "It's not _that_ personal." He leaned back – he was sitting on a bench next to hers – his gaze making its way up the sky. The faint light of twilight flashed off his spectacles, but the moment he turned back to her with a small smile, it was easy to see his eyes again. "However, I will warn you that it's not that interesting a tale."

"It doesn't matter," Elsa replied. "I'm still … interested."

"Well, if you insist …" The Ambassador rested his hands behind his head. "I grew up in the country mostly. I …" He shrugged. "I wasn't in the best of health as a child. I'd get sick at every little thing. If you've ever been to Weselton – the city, that is – you'd realize that with all of the manufactories, the air is full of soot and ash more often than not. My mother was worried about my health, so we – she, I, and Ricky – spent most of our time at our estate. My father traveled between the city, the estate, and wherever my uncle was sending him for a diplomatic or military excursion."

"Still … growing up in the country must have been fun," Elsa replied. "We have a summer house about ten miles from Rosen. We used to go there every summer until …" Elsa stared at her hands. "Well."

The Ambassador had his head cocked to one side, but when Elsa didn't elaborate, he moved on. "I … don't know that it was as fun as you're thinking it was, Your Majesty. To be honest, I spent far more time in my room than I would have liked. It seemed like I was always coming down with something or getting over it. I swear," he chuckled, "I had more near-death experiences by the time I was twelve than my father has had to date – and _he _spent twenty years commanding Weselton's army."

"You – you spent most of your time in your room?" Elsa asked wonderingly, looking from the Ambassador to her hands and back again.

_So … so he knows what it's like …_

"Yes. But don't go feeling sorry for me. It wasn't all bad." He chuckled. "There were benefits to being the sickly one. My tutors – well, I suppose my parents really – let me study whatever I wanted. As a result, I am condemned to repeat the past, because I don't know a thing about it; literature is a closed book to me, and as for languages—"

"Let me guess," Elsa interrupted. "Foreign languages are all Greek to you?"

The Ambassador laughed. "Modern ones, unfortunately – but my tutors actually managed to convince me to learn Latin and Greek. They dangled Aristotle and Plato and Newton's _Principia_ in front of me and told me I'd never understand them if I didn't read them in the original language." He chuckled. "However, I never had much patience for the so-called 'classics.' I suffered through them to learn the language."

"I see," Elsa nodded. "So … I'm guessing you learned mathematics? Science?"

The Ambassador nodded. "Mathematics, astronomy – I was interested in natural history for a long time, had quite a collection of specimens, too, but … well, never mind." He cleared his throat. "Architecture, too. Even engineering, for all that my father told me that it wasn't a gentleman's profession."

Elsa turned her head to one side. "And what … did you tell him?"

"Nothing really. He'd comment, but he never tried to stop me from learning," the Ambassador shrugged. "Besides, I think by the time I got old enough for him to have wanted to argue about it, he realized that Weselton's future was more in the hands of the engineers and the capitalists than in the hands of gentlemen."

"Ah," was all Elsa could reply to that.

"Not that you're interested in all of that," the Ambassador continued. "But … well, that was the bulk of it. When you spent most of your time in bed, sick, you read a lot."

"Then where did your … specimens come from?" asked Elsa.

The Ambassador blinked. Then he chuckled. "Oh … that was Ricky."

"Oh—oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No, no, don't be." The Ambassador waved his hand. "I don't mind talking about him … if you don't mind hearing."

Elsa shook her head.

"Well … then …" He sighed, staring at the stars. "Ricky was … well, he was a year and a half younger than me, to start. And in a way, he was everything that I wasn't. I was happy – well, not _happy_, but content enough – in bed with a book. Ricky was a little ball of energy, always getting into everything. He drove our nurses up the wall. My mother finally had to let him go outside in the garden on his own, and then give him the run of the grounds, in order to give the rest of us some peace."

The Ambassador surveyed his nails, but Elsa could tell that he wasn't really seeing them. "I think he was my father's favorite. My father would never admit it, but – well, Ricky was like him. A man—or rather a boy—of action. Always on the go. My tutors had to bribe me with math and science to get me to learn my Latin and Greek; they handed Ricky a copy of the _Commentarii de Bello Gallico_ and he was off like a shot. He loved the classics, the _Aeneid_ and all the rest of the tales of old heroes. The sagas, too. He'd rather be outside doing something than inside learning, but if he had to be inside learning, that was what he liked to learn."

Elsa leaned forward, head turned to one side, listening more closely than she'd listened to anything in a long time.

Which was why she was able to hear what the Ambassador said next. "And for some reason … I was his hero."

"You were his older brother," Elsa replied. The Ambassador looked up, surprised, as if he had forgotten he was speaking to someone. "It's only natural."

"That's what plenty of people have said. And maybe I did manage to keep him from getting caught in a lot of his schemes," the Ambassador grinned at the memories, "but … I don't know. He was the one who got me the specimens when I was sick. And when I was well, we'd go out rambling over the fields for hours, and he'd show me where he found everything. My mother was always convinced I'd catch my death when we'd do that. And …" The Ambassador's eyes grew far away. "Well … _I_ didn't."

"Oh no," Elsa whispered, sensing where this was going.

"I still miss him," the Ambassador murmured. "It's been thirteen years," Elsa started, "since he died, but I still miss him. Sometimes—sometimes when I see the _Aurora borealis_, I want to go and shake Ricky awake so he can see it, too."

"The sky's awake," Elsa whispered.

"Huh?" the Ambassador asked.

"It—it was something my sister used to say," she admitted, staring at her skirts and blushing. "Whenever the Northern Lights were out. She'd wake up in the middle of the night, and then she'd wake _me_ up," Elsa chuckled, "and she'd tell me that the sky was awake – so she was awake – so we had to play."

The Ambassador laughed.

"That's my sister," Elsa shook her head. "It's amazing how her logic always manages to point to her getting her way."

"You two must have had a lot of a fun," the Ambassador replied.

Elsa looked away. "We did … until … about thirteen years ago." Elsa stared at her hands, flexing them.

The Ambassador leaned forward. "What … what happened? If you don't mind me asking."

Her hands lay white, still and perfect in her lap. No one would guess what those hands could do if they hadn't seen it for themselves. "I … I almost killed her. With my powers." She held up her hands. "It was an accident—but … my parents thought it would be best if we were kept separate after that. They didn't want it to happen again. And because of the … injury …" Elsa stared across the courtyard, remember the white streak in Anna's hair, the streak that had disappeared when she had thawed from Elsa's curse. "She didn't remember any of it. My powers or … anything else." Elsa sighed. "I spent thirteen years limiting my contact with people, hiding myself and my powers away from the world, because I couldn't stand the thought of hurting her again. And then," the laugh came out, bitter and unbidden, "not two days after I emerge from one kind of hiding, I lost control of my powers – and I almost killed her again!"

Elsa leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes squeezed shut, trying to force the memories back where they belonged. "So … you see …"

She stopped, not sure what the Ambassador was supposed to see.

He cleared his throat. "Your Majesty …"

Elsa braced herself for whatever was to come next. _My uncle was right, you are a monster, I'm breaking off the negotiations—_

"Ricky died of scarlet fever."

Elsa looked up to find the Ambassador looking down, swallowing, his eyes closed.

"He caught it from me."

She gasped. "No …"

"Unfortunately … yes. My parents – well, my mother, my father wasn't always there – she tried to keep us separate when I was sick. But once I started convalescing, Ricky would always sneak into my room. I was teaching him how to play chess," the Ambassador sighed, "and I thought—I thought his cheeks looked a little red. But it was autumn, I assumed he'd spent all day outside and was flushed from the wind and running around." He pushed his hair back; it instantly flopped back to where it had been. "I never saw him alive again."

"Oh no …"

"My mother didn't even tell me until … after. I think she was terrified that I would relapse."

"I'm so sorry …" Elsa whispered.

"But I insisted on going to the funeral. I wasn't well enough, the doctor was dead set against it, but I insisted. It was …" The Ambassador shook his head. "I don't remember much of it. But I remember it was the only time I saw my father break down. My mother didn't – I don't know if it was shock, or if she knew she had to be the strong one, but she didn't."

The Ambassador took a deep, shaky breath. "I was convinced for weeks – months – that it was all my fault. That winter was the worst I'd ever passed. My father actually stayed at home for the winter, he and Mother were that worried about me. Father was the one who figured out what was bothering me. He badgered me about it until I finally blurted it out. And then he told me …"

Elsa watched the Ambassador's eyes narrow and his lips move. "He said – he said he'd lost many friends before. Men who'd died when he thought he should have. And he said the best way, the only way, to keep going, was to keep living as fully as possible. Because do to anything else was an insult to their memory. They died so that we might live. And maybe that wasn't quite true in Ricky's case – but he told me the last thing Ricky would have wanted was to watch me tear myself apart in some sort of real or imagined guilt."

The Ambassador looked up, his summer-sky eyes meeting hers. "Your Majesty, I may not know your sister very well—but I think if you asked her, she would say the same thing."

Elsa opened her mouth. _It's not the same,_ she wanted to say. _You couldn't help giving him scarlet fever. If you could have helped it, you would have! I—_

Elsa blinked.

_If I could have helped it … _I_ would have …_

There was a feeling, deep inside her soul, like a knot had come loose. A weight had been taken away. Elsa looked up, and she could only stare at the Ambassador in what felt like wonder.

Before she could say anything, she could hear the church bells chiming the quarter-hour. It was time to go up and change for dinner. "Ambassador – I," Elsa rose, "I don't know what to say – or how to thank you—"

"Don't worry about it." He grinned. "Only a monster would see someone in pain and not pass along … well, not the cure, but …"

Elsa nodded.

"Anyway, Your Majesty, I had best—"

"Wait," Elsa interrupted. "Call me Elsa."

The Ambassador's jaw fell.

"It—you just—" Elsa shrugged. "If – if this doesn't put us on a first name basis, what could?"

For some reason this made the Ambassador break out in a grin, and for some reason that grin made Elsa blush. "So—you'll call me Nick, then?"

Elsa's flush deepened. "If that's what you wish."

"And I do." He bowed to her. "Until dinner, then – Elsa."

Elsa curtsied. "Until dinner, Nick."

* * *

**Well, I had to go out on a quasi-high note after all of that. Though I wouldn't be surprised if Walt Disney's ghost came after me for that Mary Poppins reference in the middle scene.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, and please leave a review if you have the time or the inclination! I love every bit of feedback I receive. Thank you!**


	11. Fix This Fixer-Upper Up

Chapter 11: Fix This Fixer-Upper Up

Some days passed, and Hans's trial drew closer with each one of them. There were only a couple weeks to go until it would start. Every day some new tidbit about the trial was published in the _Rosen Times_, starting with the fact that the best defense lawyer in a generation, Leiv Oveson, had come out of retirement to lead Hans's defense.

Elsa wasn't worried about that – not yet, anyway. She was meeting mostly with prosecutors, going over her testimony for the trial, and beyond that trying not to be too involved. It was enough of a breach of tradition and protocol that the Queen and her heiress presumptive were witnesses in the trial. She didn't need to go sticking her nose into every last facet of it.

Besides, the less she thought about it, the happier she was. She could let the dread slowly build in the back of her mind without having to agitate it.

She had gone over her testimony with the prosecutors yet again that morning, even role-playing a cross examination. Elsa had left the time between that meeting and lunch empty on her schedule. She told herself she was going to catch up on her paperwork. She was lying to herself, and she knew it, but she assuaged her conscience with the fact that she'd be useless in a meeting anyway.

So Elsa made her way back to her bedroom, intending to spend those hours reading or maybe drawing fanciful sketches of ice-architecture in the little sketchbook she had purchased on her first excursion into town after the Great Thaw. Or perhaps she'd sit on the bench near the window and watch the people going about their business outside. It was thrilling and fun to watch when she could do so with the knowledge that she could join them at any moment.

What she wasn't expecting was to barely touch the knob to her room and have the door fly open. "Your Majesty!" gasped Marte.

Elsa was about to apologize, even though she was sure that Marte got a copy of her schedule and would have known that Elsa might come back here, but Marte spoke before she got a chance. "You're back! Thank goodness!"

"Thank—" Elsa started, only to be bodily pulled into her bedroom by her maid.

"She's been crying for over an hour!" Marte whispered. "I asked her what was wrong, but she just started sobbing!"

"Wha—" Elsa started, before her gaze followed Marte's anxiously pointing finger.

"_Anna_!"

The temperature of the room plunged at least twenty degrees as Elsa grabbed her skirts and flew the few steps between the door and the bed. Anna was lying on her belly, her face buried in the pillows, a few hitching breaths escaping in the way they would after all the tears had been cried. Elsa had cried like that more than a few times in her life. "Anna, what's wrong?" Elsa asked, clambering onto the bed and trying to hold Anna.

Anna looked up. Her eyes were red and raw. She looked away – but only long enough to grab the newspaper lying next to her. "Read the editorial," was all she said before flopping back down on the pillows.

There were times to ask, "What? Why?" This wasn't one of them. Elsa's hands shook as she tried to turn the pages. Half the paper ended up on the floor before she finally found the editorial.

_The one morning I didn't read it …_

Elsa's eyes fell on the offending article, and with her hands still shaking, she started to read. Anna whimpered and cuddled a little closer to Elsa, and almost without realizing she was doing it, Elsa began to rub her back.

_It has come to our attention,_ the editorial began – Elsa glanced at the signature and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it wasn't Cicero, but was instead the paper's editor – _that there are pamphlets of a scurrilous nature circulating in the city. While the content of many is too disgusting to be repeated in a family newspaper, a quick sketch can be given without offending the sensibilities of our readers. To wit, these pamphlets hold, one and all, that our good Queen Elsa has, by various actions and inactions, proven herself unworthy of the throne and crown she now holds, and that she ought to quit both._

Elsa's eyes went wide. _Oh gods, the pamphlets, I never told Anna about the pamphlets!_

_However,_ the editorial continued, _what these pamphlets never consider is what would happen afterwards. Assuming that the laws of succession currently in place hold – and given the lack of any discussion about an alternative, this seems a reasonable assumption to make – Princess Anna would become Queen. As she is not yet of age, the kingdom would enter a period of regency under either Chancellor Tennfjord or another suitable candidate. There are two ways in which Princess Anna could end her minority. One is, of course, by reaching the age of twenty-one. The other is by marrying, which her advisors would almost certainly press for her to do, and quickly._

_The question then becomes, whom is Princess Anna likely to marry? A prince? A duke? A nobleman of Arendelle or some foreign land?_

_No, none of these things is likely to happen. If Princess Anna were to marry quickly, she would marry man of lowly and common birth, Arendelle's so-called "Ice Master and Deliverer." She would marry one Kristoff Bjorgman, an ice harvester with no antecedents to speak of, no foreign connections, in short nothing of value to bring to the throne and house of Arendelle. This is the man who would rule over us as Prince Consort, or perhaps even King!_

Elsa blinked as she continued to read.

The editorial then proceeded to tear Kristoff apart, metaphorically. Much was made of his lack of family connection (although Elsa wondered what Master Hummel would say if he knew about the trolls) or anything approaching noble blood. He was uneducated, rough, and had no idea of etiquette. He could harvest ice, Master Hummel conceded, and he could even carve it, but were these the qualities that made a good ruler and a leader of men?

The article ended with a snide remark to the writers of the pamphlets, reminding them that perhaps they ought to think through their positions before putting them in print. However, it was too late to save the editorial in Elsa's eyes. By the time she was halfway through, her upset was beginning to be replaced with anger. By the time she was done, Elsa could feel a blizzard swirling inside of her. It was all she could do to take deep breaths and hold her powers in.

More or less. She glanced at the fireplace, which was a beautiful, hard specimen of marble. Marte was standing by it, trying to stoke the flames. "Marte?" Elsa asked.

Marte straightened. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Could you just … move a bit, please?"

Marte took a side-step to the right.

"A little more." Marte scuttled away. "That should be fine. Thank you."

Elsa took a deep breath and turned to her little sister. "Anna?" She was already balling the newspaper up in her hands. "Could you look up, please?"

Sniffling, Anna looked up.

Elsa froze the balled-up newspaper, took aim, and threw it at the fireplace.

It shattered.

As if her point wasn't clear enough, Elsa summoned a winter wind to deposit the remnants into the fire. Another careful breeze fed the flames so that they roared to life. Then and only then did she turn to her sister. "_That_ is what I think of that editorial. Kristoff is a wonderful man, and if Master Hummel has a problem with him, he can eat his own newsprint."

A flicker of a smile ghosted across Anna's face. Then it faded. "I know," she said. Slowly, she turned around, sighing and drawing her knees to her chest.

Elsa glanced at Marte, wondering if this was a reaction that someone with a bit more experience with, well, people might be able to understand. But Marte looked just as confused as Elsa felt.

"You … you've never said anything against Kristoff. You're even _nice_ to him. You try to talk to him! You didn't like Hans and you weren't shy about letting me know about that!"

"Er, well—" Elsa started.

"If you had a problem with Kristoff, you would have let me know by now!"

Since that was true, Elsa didn't have an answer for it. Which was a good thing, for Anna wasn't finished.

"But … but _Kristoff_ believes that editorial. He told me …"Anna's face started to crumble.

"Anna?" Elsa whispered.

"He said maybe they're right! He's not king or prince material. And when I told him I didn't care, he said that was the point!"

Elsa glanced guiltily at the fire. That had been one of Master Hummel's many points.

"He said maybe—maybe it would be best if he just went—"

"What?" Elsa gasped.

"What?" Marte echoed, and then she slapped her hands in front of her mouth.

"I can't lose him, Elsa!" Anna clung to Elsa's arm. "I don't care what Olaf says! You don't prove you love someone by leaving them all alone!"

Elsa winced, but at least Anna didn't seem to notice. She scrambled for something to say.

Marte started speaking before Elsa could come up with anything. "Oh, Your Highness—" She froze, but Elsa motioned for her to keep speaking.

_And please be quick about it!_

"Your – Your Highness, you might know that, and I might know that, and I'm sure Her Majesty knows that," Marte nodded at Elsa, "but …" She crept a little closer to the bed, closing the distance only when Elsa motioned for her to come and sit. "Well, the problem is, Master Bjorgman's a man."

"Er … yes?" Anna replied.

"Well, there's something my ma always told me about men," Marte continued, settling herself on the end of the bed. "Most of 'em have rocks for brains – and if you ever meet a man who doesn't, marry him quick, because men like that only come around once in a lifetime!"

Elsa and Anna both stared – then Anna threw her head back and howled with laughter. "Rocks for brains!"

Marte startled and stared at Elsa. Elsa sighed. "It's a … long story," she replied. She put her arm around Anna's shoulder and held her little sister close while she laughed it off.

But as Anna laughed, Elsa thought. _She doesn't understand. She doesn't know what it's like to love someone and be terrified of hurting of them, just by being who you are and being around them. If there's no way to stop being who you are, sometimes the only thing you can think to do is to leave them._

… _But _I_ understand that …_

"Anna?" Elsa asked as Anna's laughter began to die down.

"Hmm?"

"Would you mind if … I tried to talk to Kristoff?"

Anna's jaw fell, and even Marte looked at her in some surprise.

"I …" Elsa sighed. "What he's doing now is what I tried to do for thirteen years."

Elsa watched Anna's eyes widen. "It's – it's not the same thing! Mama and Papa were keeping us apart!"

"Only for the first ten years, Anna."

"But …"

"Anna, I understand what he's going through. That's all I'm saying. And …" Elsa sighed. "It took you throwing yourself in front of a sword for me to realize what a fool I'd been. I wish there had been somebody to shake _me_ and tell me to snap out of it. But," Elsa swallowed, "if you don't want me to talk to him …"

She dared a glance at Anna. Anna was staring with her jaw hanging wide open. "You … wait, you'd do that? For me?"

"Of course, Anna. I love you."

She was a little surprised when Anna nearly tackled her in a hug. "Oh, Elsa! Thank you!"

"You're welcome. It's the least I can do."

Anna looked up. "You always say that."

Elsa shrugged. "It's always true."

* * *

"Can I be helpin' you, Your Majesty?"

"Er …" Elsa looked around the stables, smiling a little nervously at the stable hand who greeted her. He was probably in his early forties, with wheat blond hair and a potbelly, but something about his face struck Elsa as familiar. Unfortunately she couldn't place it, and she didn't have time to wonder. "Sir …"

He pulled his forelock. "Soren Njalsen, Your Majesty. Hardly a sir!"

"Er …" Elsa flashed that nervous smile again. "I'm looking for—"

A baying sound cut through her words. Elsa turned to see a pair of antlers nodding up and down. "Never mind. I think I found him. Thank you, Master Njalsen," Elsa replied.

He bowed with a toothy grin as Elsa began to walk toward Sven. _If I could only figure out why he looked familiar …_

But she had more important things to worry about. Such as talking to Kristoff.

As she had suspected, Kristoff wasn't far from where Sven was. He was sitting halfway in a pile of hay, his knees pulled up to his chest and his head down. For a moment Elsa thought of creeping away again. He didn't seem in the mood to talk.

However, Sven saw her or smelled her, and he bellowed out a greeting. That got Kristoff to look up, his eyes widening.

"Um—uh—Elsa—I mean Your—"

"No, it's still Elsa." Elsa replied. She put one hand on the stall door and tried to fend off Sven with the other, because he was sniffing her dress in a hunt for carrots. "Sorry, Sven," she whispered to him. She really should have come prepared.

"Sven, leave her alone," Kristoff muttered. "So … uh … Elsa …"

"Can I come in?" she asked, gesturing to the stall door.

"Er …" Kristoff looked around. Sven was in one of the biggest loose boxes in the stables – Queen's orders. "It's your stables," he finally replied, shrugging and opening up the door.

Elsa decided she would take it. She moved into the stall, then, seeing that it looked like … well, like a reindeer was living there full time, she conjured a snow chair and had a seat.

Kristoff swallowed. "Um …"

Elsa turned her head to one side. "Are you all right?"

"… What?"

She gestured for him to sit, too, and waited as Kristoff lowered himself into the hay. "Anna told me …"

Kristoff groaned and covered his face with his hands. "You're probably furious."

Elsa shook her head, realized that wouldn't be sufficient, then said, "I'm not."

Kristoff froze. Slowly he lowered his hands enough to see her. "You're … not."

"No." Elsa absently adjusted her skirts, and not-absently-at-all conjured a bit of snow to cover up the bit of floor nearest to her and her skirts. "I …" She looked up and shrugged. "I can't be any angrier with you for doing what you're doing than I can be with myself for what I did for thirteen years."

Kristoff's eyes widened, and then he swallowed. "It's not the same."

"It isn't?" asked Elsa. She watched as the young ice harvester squirmed and wouldn't meet her eyes. It was only years of queenly training that allowed Elsa to meet his. "Kristoff—"

"I'm bringing her down," Kristoff muttered to his knees. "She's … she's great, and she, I don't know. She deserves somebody better than me."

_Somebody better than a man who is honest and kind and true?_ Elsa wondered. _Somebody better than a man who, while a little rough around the edges, has a good heart? _

_Somebody better than a man who raced across a frozen tundra to bring her to the man he thought she loved, then left her because he thought that would be what was best for her, then galloped back into a blizzard to find her again because he thought she might be in trouble?_

Elsa rested her chin on her hand. _Kristoff, you and I both love Anna very much, and we want the world for her, but I have to ask – where is she going to _find_ a man who is better than that?_

She said none of that. What she said was, "Better how?"

"You know. Someone who …" Kristoff tore his hat off, scratched his head thoroughly, and put it back on. "Someone who is part of – _your_ world. Someone who can be the man she needs by her side. Someone who … who doesn't smell like a reindeer, to start!"

Elsa could have remarked that the smell had actually gotten much better now that Kristoff had a consistent roof over his head and was able, to say nothing of _encouraged_, to bathe frequently, but she held her peace on that score. "Why do you think that you can't be the man she needs?" _And what about the man she wants, Kristoff?_

Kristoff laughed. "Please. I'm a – a socially impaired ice harvester who was raised by trolls. My best friend is a reindeer, and about the only thing I'm good at is carving ice." He rested his forehead on his knees. "Before I met Anna … ice was my life. I don't know anything about … etiquette and politics and foreign relations and … and I don't even know what else you do, I know that little about it!"

"All of that can be learned, Kristoff," Elsa pointed out. "Nobody expects you to know it all right away. Anna is still learning. _I'm_ still learning."

"Whoever wrote that article in the paper seems to expect me to. Or he expects whoever Anna marries to know all of that." Kristoff swallowed. "And—she deserves to have somebody by her side who will help her with all of that. Not somebody who has to have everything explained to him three times, and even then he still doesn't get it."

Elsa raised one eyebrow. "Kristoff … who's doing most of the explaining to you?"

"Well, Anna, but …"

Elsa let both raised eyebrows do the talking for her.

"But that's not what this is about!" He flung his arms wide. Sven jumped as one hand accidentally made contact with his side. "Sorry, buddy—but what I mean is—"

"Kristoff." The slight motion she made for silence was enough to stop him. "I repeat: politics, etiquette, foreign relations, they are all things that can be taught. You're a very intelligent man; you'll pick it up quickly with the help of some … skilled tutors. But, Kristoff, some things can't be taught …"

Kristoff swallowed.

"Like courage. And honesty. And keeping a cool head in a crisis. And true compassion. And … love," Elsa said. "You have those things already. Those are what are more important."

"Yeah, but Elsa … there's gotta be a man out there who – who has it all! The whole package!" Kristoff flung his arms out again, although this time Sven moved before he got hit. "I mean, sure Hans was an as—um, something I wouldn't say in front of a lady," Kristoff stumbled, "but look at Nick Solberg!"

Sven startled and shivered as the temperature suddenly took a dip. He stared at Elsa, head and antlers cocked to the side.

"He's a good guy. I mean, all right, we don't know each other very well, but he's been nicer to me than most of the nobles from around here. And he's from _Weasel Town_! Would—would he and Anna work in a million years? Probably not."

Sven stamped as the air grew warmer again. Kristoff kept going, not noticing. "But—he can't be the _only_ prince or noble out there who's got a decent bloodline and a sense of, I don't know, decency," he went on. "There's gotta be others. And maybe if I wasn't around—"

"You know," Elsa interrupted, "I thought if I wasn't around, Anna would be safe." Elsa stared at her hands. "I think we all know how that turned out."

Kristoff swallowed. Elsa allowed herself a peek through her lashes to see that he was staring at her hands, too. "That's … not the same."

"Isn't it?" Elsa asked. "The problem was that I couldn't control my powers. Anna showed me how."

"My problem is that I'm an ice harvester who doesn't know a – a constitutional crisis from a hole in the ground," Kristoff replied. "Do you really think Anna can show me how to be a prince?"

Elsa chuckled. "When I was a little girl, my mother told me that true love has the power to turn just about any man into a handsome prince."

Kristoff blinked. "Anna … Anna said the same thing …"

"Well, we do share a mother."

It was meant as a joke, or at any rate a light remark; Kristoff managed a small laugh in reply. Then he blinked. "Wait. Your father … he was always a prince, wasn't he? And your mother was from …" He frowned. "Andalasia. She was a princess."

"Yes. But when she first met my father, she wasn't … entirely impressed." Elsa chuckled again, remembering how her mother had described the "uptight" and "allergic to fun" Prince Agdar of Arendelle, and how her father vociferously protested against both of those labels. "She used to say that it takes more than being male, good-looking, and born to a king and queen to make a man a handsome prince."

"… Um … Elsa, I hate to break it to you, but …"

"I know."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't apologize." Elsa shrugged. "I suppose my point is … if you asked Anna, she would probably be forced to admit that Hans is rather good-looking, male, and born to a king and queen. But she would never call him a handsome prince. You might not have been born to a king and queen, but I think Anna would call you a handsome prince all the same."

Kristoff smiled, that far-off, dreamy look he sometimes got when he was thinking of Anna – or so Elsa guessed. Them he sighed. "She's probably the only one."

"It doesn't matter. Everyone else will come around."

"You sure about that?" asked Kristoff.

"Yes," Elsa replied. "The people love Anna. Anna saved them from the eternal winter."

"Well, um, technically, _you_—"

Elsa held up her hand. "Anna saved them. And you saved Anna. Anna loves you. They'll love you, too. Just … give them a chance."

Kristoff scratched his head and sighed.

"Give Anna a chance if you won't give the people a chance," Elsa said. She heard how desperate she sounded. "I spent far too long not giving her a chance. I still wonder what would have happened if I had."

Kristoff swallowed.

Elsa waited.

Sven bent his head down and took some feed from the bin.

Kristoff shifted in the hay. He still wouldn't meet her eyes. "Would Anna be willing to give _me_ another chance?"

Elsa smiled. "There's only one way to find out."

* * *

Some ten minutes later, Elsa stood aside to let Kristoff knock on the door to her bedroom.

Marte opened the door. Her eyes went wide and she turned so quickly that her wheat-blonde plaits flew out. "Princess Anna! There's someone here to see you!"

"What?" Elsa listened to the fall of her sister's feet as she came closer to the door. "What do—" Anna came to the door and stopped dead.

"K-Kristoff."

"… Hey." Elsa heard Kristoff gulp. "Look, um, about earlier …"

"I don't care what that article said!" Anna said, a little desperately.

Kristoff gulped again. He had taken off his hat as soon as they came indoors and was twisting it awkwardly. "I—I just want you to be happy, Anna."

"I want you to be happy, too …"

"I don't want to drag you down."

Anna shook her head. "You won't."

"But—"

Anna launched herself into Kristoff's arms, and that was the last Elsa saw of their reunion, seeing as she closed her eyes.

She next felt a finger gently tapping her shoulder. "Begging your pardon, Your Majesty – but I can chaperone if you're not feeling up to it," Marte whispered.

"Marte, you deserve a raise," Elsa whispered back. "Thank you!" Staring at the floor, she squeezed past the oblivious Kristoff and Anna and into her bedroom.

The first thing she noticed was that Marte had cleaned up. The rest of the paper had been folded and neatly placed on Elsa's small writing desk. Elsa picked it up, staring at it but not seeing it, and frowned.

She put the paper down, still frowning, and picked up her schedule for the day. She nodded after she read it over. Then she rang the bell for Kai.

Kai was at her bedroom door in five minutes. Elsa let him inside, though she kept the door cracked open for propriety's sake. "Er, Your Majesty, I am sure you sent for me for something important, but are you aware that Princess Anna and Master Bjorgman …?"

"Marte is chaperoning," Elsa replied, "and speaking of which, I should like to give her a raise in payment." Kai blinked. "She puts up with a great deal, Kai, and somehow manages to pull through it all beautifully."

Kai's only response was a slow nod. "Of course, Your Majesty. I shall tell Gerda to give a suitable raise to Marte … Sorensdatter?"

"Yes, Marte Sorensdatter," Elsa nodded. Something in the back of her mind jumped up and down and demanded her attention, but Elsa ignored it. "However, that is not why I called you here. I should like you to put off my meeting with the Confectioner's Guild until another time and invite Master Hummel of the _Rosen Times_ to meet with me at two o'clock."

Kai's eyebrows rose. He glanced sidelong at the paper. "Is this about today's editorial, Your Majesty?"

"It is indeed."

"Ah." Kai nodded and straightened his cravat. "And what shall I tell Master Hummel?"

Elsa smiled. It was the kind of smile that she didn't often use, but it felt so good when she did. "Tell him the Queen wishes to see him for an exclusive interview."

* * *

Elsa made sure that she was seated behind her desk, ramrod straight and the picture of icy regality, when two o'clock rolled around. The fire was roaring (she'd asked for extra logs) and she had checked the door the balcony three times to make sure she hadn't inadvertently left it open. If anything, the room was uncomfortably warm.

That was exactly as Elsa wished it to be.

A precisely five minutes past two, Kai's familiar knock sounded on the door. He smoothly stepped in. "Master Hummel of the _Rosen Times_, Your Majesty."

Following Kai was a lean man in his middle forties, with thick, curly black hair that probably needed no pomade to sweep it into the fashionable styles favored across the continent. He was smiling, but there was something in his deep-set eyes and in the general cast and angle of his face that reminded Elsa of a bird of prey. Not a vulture: a hawk or eagle, maybe. Noble, but single-focused and relentless, and it was best not to take your eyes off it for a second.

Elsa smiled. She couldn't help but notice that the temperature of the room had inched closer to something comfortable the moment he walked in. "Good afternoon, Master Hummel. Please …" She gestured to the comfortable chairs across from her desk. "Have a seat."

Master Hummel bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty. A very fine afternoon it is." He sat, grinning openly.

"Before we start, would you like any refreshment? Tea, sandwiches …?" Elsa asked.

"No, thank you, Your Majesty, I had a hearty newspaperman's lunch before I came," Master Hummel chuckled. If that was the case, Elsa had to wonder where he had put it.

"Very well. Kai, that will be all for the moment."

"Very good, Your Majesty." Kai slipped outside, as unobtrusive as he had been when he came in.

"Now, Master Hummel …" Elsa saw him reach for his notebook. "I have to ask you to keep the notebook where it is. This interview is to remain strictly off the record."

Not that not having the notebook would make a difference. Master Hummel, Elsa had learned to her detriment, had an excellent memory. Sometimes she wondered if he only kept the notebook around to intimidate people when he started to ask questions.

All the same, Master Hummel slowly put his hands on the desk. "Indeed?" He looked even more intrigued, probably because he got all of his best scoops when he was interviewing someone off the record.

"Yes. You see, I read your editorial this morning." Elsa gestured to the paper she had artfully arranged on the desk. "It was, after all, technically morning when I read it. Unfortunately other … matters had me occupied during breakfast, but I assure you, when I came back from a meeting to find my sister in tears over it, I read your editorial."

Master Hummel winced. "Your Majesty, I can—"

"I think this will go much better for both of us if you don't attempt to explain, Master Hummel," Elsa replied. She somehow managed to keep the bite from her voice, but no power she had could have kept the room from suddenly growing a notch colder.

"Will it?" he asked. "Surely you realize _why_ I wrote that editorial?"

Elsa's nostrils flared ever so slightly. "I could hardly fail to notice to whom you were writing in reply."

"Good," he replied. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but when you're dealing with imbeciles, sometimes you need to use a blunt instrument. Princess Anna is a lovely young woman, but she is by no stretch of the imagination ready to be Queen, and that is a point that needs to be underscored if certain parties are going to realize what they're asking for."

Elsa swallowed. "As little as I like the arguments they're making, they are free to make them. That has been the law in Arendelle since my grandfather's time."

"Yes and no. They're free from having to worry about being tossed into jail for making those arguments," Master Hummel pointed out, "though they're skating pretty near the line with those … illustrations. They're _not_ free from having some more intelligent party point out all the flaws in their argument and suggest to them that if they can't come up anything better than that, they might refrain from embarrassing themselves by keeping quiet."

"I understand that, however—"

"And the trouble with … certain people, is that once they start making those kinds of arguments, they won't stop until they either get their way or they are entirely humiliated. I don't think either of us wants to see them get their way, Your Majesty. So I'm attempting to deal out some humiliation before it's too late."

"Before it's too late?" Elsa's eyebrows rose. "Master Hummel, I appreciate your concern, but I assure you I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I am not some fainting princess in need of rescue by a self-appointed knight in shining armor."

"I will agree that 'sit around and wait to be rescued' is unlikely to be your _modus operandi_, Your Majesty," Master Hummel answered. "Not when you have the powers of ice and snow at your command."

"Thank you. However, I would also like to put out that if I do not need rescue, I am highly unlike to appreciate any knight in shining armor whose idea of rescue involves throwing _my sister_ to the dragons." Elsa could feel the ice starting to build inside her, and she tapped her foot twice on the ground to let some out in the most unobtrusive way possible.

Master Hummel's thin brows inched upward. "She's not just your sister, Your Majesty. She's your heiress, and her actions have far-ranging consequences in Arendelle. Furthermore, I'm sure you noticed that most of my editorial barely mentioned Princess Anna, and instead focused on the," he coughed, "_Ice Master and_—"

"I know," Elsa replied. "Instead of attacking her directly, you directed your pen against the man she's courting – with my full approval, I might add – a man who saved her life on multiple occasions, and who is frankly everything I want for my sister. And _no_, this is not an announcement of their engagement," Elsa said as Master Hummel's mouth opened to ask a question. "However, in so doing, I can't imagine that you didn't realize you were also attacking her – her taste and her judgment."

"You have to admit that excellent judgment is not something she has necessarily shown since first entering the public eye six months ago," Master Hummel pointed out.

Elsa didn't wince, as much as she wanted to. "You could say the same about me. We both showed extraordinary lapses in judgment on the day of my coronation, and for several days thereafter."

"True, but may I point out, Your Majesty, that you somehow managed to extricate us from all of that without starting a war, crashing the economy, or inciting a revolution?" Master Hummel replied. "In fact, with the exception of Weselton, our diplomatic relations with just about every country whose representatives came to your coronation are even stronger now. And Weselton tried to kill you, so I'd say they brought all of their troubles upon themselves!"

Elsa flinched; Master Hummel had to have noticed. "I don't think Princess Anna could have done that, Your Majesty," he went on. "You are of course entitled to your opinion, but I have a very difficult time seeing it."

Elsa decided not to answer that. "Be that as it may, my sister is still a minor under the law, and she is not involved in politics."

"She's _your heiress_."

"I understand that. But she deserves a chance to enjoy her youth. Furthermore, as far as I am concerned, she can marry where she pleases – provided that she and the young man have had a chance to get to know each other and that the man himself is not objectionable for obvious reasons. His bloodline and antecedents are not obvious reasons, so long as he has proven himself to be of exemplary character."

"In other words, if Princess Anna can prove to you that it's 'true love,'" Master Hummel rolled his eyes, "she can marry an ice harvester if she wants."

Elsa grinned. "I'm glad you understand."

"Oh, I understand. But I'm not sure what you expected to accomplish by this 'exclusive interview,'" Master Hummel went on. "If _she_ has the right to marry where she pleases, _I_ have the right to criticize that decision in print."

And finally they came to the crux of the matter. Part of Elsa couldn't help but thrill a little it. "That's true, Master Hummel. But you brought up an earlier point about freedom of speech earlier – you are only free from government retaliation, not free from the risk of being shouted at by other citizens."

Now Master Hummel frowned. "Yes …"

"Obviously, you are free to print whatever you wish, and you need not worry about prosecution. However, there's nothing in the law that says that _I_ have to favor a newspaper that prints humiliating editorials concerning my sister."

"Meaning …" Master Hummel replied in a tone that suggested he knew quite well what this meant, but that he wanted his suspicions confirmed.

"Write another editorial like that, Master Hummel, and this will be the last exclusive interview with me that you ever get."

Somewhat to her surprise, Master Hummel only sighed. "I was afraid of that. Let me ask, is this a blanket ban on mentioning your sister in print, or am I only to refrain against specifically editorializing against her?"

"I—I beg your pardon?"

"If I can't mention her in my paper, I'll lose half the content of the Society section," Master Hummel said bluntly. "Not to mention I'll have every respectable matron beating down my door, asking why I didn't mention the most important guest at their parties."

"Er—the Society section is exempt," Elsa said. Had she really just – won? Had it been that easy? She barely had to frost anything at all … "Within reason," she hedged.

"I'll try to avoid embroiling Princess Anna in pointless scandals," Master Hummel replied.

"Thank—thank you."

"Don't mention it," he shrugged. "Besides, if it makes you feel better, I already have a stack of angry letters on my desk, excoriating me for daring to criticize 'true love,'" he rolled his eyes again. "Shall I print a few of the more entertaining ones? Or would you prefer I restrain myself to printing the cogent ones that bring up decent points?"

Elsa swallowed. "Excepting pointing out the logical consequences of your actions," she replied, "I wouldn't presume to tell you how to run your paper, Master Hummel."

"Good answer, Your Majesty. A very good answer. See, _this_ is why you are a much better Queen than Princess Anna would be. However! I'm not going to open that can of worms once more." He stood. "May I assume that this exclusive interview is at an end?"

"Since you understand what I wanted to say, yes, you may. I understand you are a busy man, Master Hummel. Thank you for your time."

He waved his hand. "Never too busy for an 'exclusive interview' with royalty. Although …" He reached for his notebook. "Might I ask one question, on the record, in exchange for my time?"

Elsa eyed that notebook askance. "You may ask. I don't guarantee an answer."

"Fair enough." He flipped through the pages. "Ah—so as I'm sure you know, Leiv Oveson has come out of retirement to defend the worst alleged traitor in a century – or probably longer, really. People, of course, want to know why he did this. So might I ask, Queen Elsa, what the royal house of Arendelle has to say about this?"

Elsa took a deep breath. "Master Hummel … I'm afraid that the royal house of Arendelle has only one thing to say."

Master Hummel paused, his pencil poised over the page, ready to write.

Elsa smirked. "No comment."

* * *

**I swear this little excursion was important for reasons that will become evident later. Have patience, dear readers! **

**And thank you, once again, for all the reviews and follows and favorites you have been so kind to leave for me! Until next time!**


	12. Both Foul and Fair

Chapter 12: Both Foul and Fair

There was a day on Elsa's calendar circled in red. It was a day when her schedule had only one thing on it.

_Hans's Trial: Beginning._

That day was only a week away.

It was impossible to predict precisely when she would be called to testify. The prosecutor, Mistress Swenhaugen, had promised to call her, Anna, and Kristoff to the stand on the first day if possible, but she could make no guarantees. So Elsa was trying to get as much work done as she could ahead of time, making it easier to keep her schedule clear for as long as necessary.

Unfortunately, that sort of thing was difficult to accomplish when Chancellor Tennfjord had pulled Madam Voll into Elsa's study for an impromptu meeting.

"Your Majesty," Chancellor Tennfjord said as soon as she and Madam Voll had seated themselves, "Hans Westergaard's trial is only a week away—"

"And I shouldn't even be here," Madam Voll muttered. In accordance with tradition, she was acting as judge in Hans's trial.

"Shush, Lovise. Your Majesty, I have had every source I have searching for an answer. And none have found one. We still don't know who is paying for Leiv Oveson to conduct Westergaard's defense."

Elsa swallowed. "Chancellor, is it not possible that Master Oveson is taking on Hans's defense in order to …" She groped for an answer. "Increase his reputation? Perhaps he can't resist one last turn in the limelight?"

"Ha!" Madam Voll had been fishing around in her reticule, presumably for her knitting, but she stopped. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but that's not possible. No, no, no. Leiv is not doing this without being paid and paid handsomely."

_Well, so much for that idea._ Elsa rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm not entirely certain it's proper for us to be investigating this. Doesn't Hans Westergaard have a right to counsel? Even _good_ counsel? Would we be endeavoring to determine who was paying for Maser Oveson's services if this was any other criminal—alleged criminal?"

"There have been three more pamphlets in the last week," Chancellor Tennfjord replied. "And do I need to mention the snowmen?"

Elsa winced. "The snowmen" were a series of anatomically-correct snowmen (they were most emphatically snow_men_) that had been placed along the causeway leading to the castle. "Chancellor, I'm not entirely certain that those were not the work of … well, people who had more liquor in their bodies than sense."

"Or just teenagers," Madam Voll suggested helpfully.

"Do I need to point out what one of those snowmen was doing?" Chancellor Tennfjord challenged.

Elsa winced again. There had been one snow-woman among the bunch, one that bore as close a resemblance to her as could be managed, and what the snowman had been doing to her was … not pleasant.

"That could still be teenagers," Madam Voll pointed out. She finally found her knitting, and the needles were clicking together industriously. "If you think a grown man's mind spends at least half its time in the gutter, then a teenage boy's mind spends at least seventy-five percent of its time in the sewer."

Chancellor Tennfjord leaned her head back, stared at the ceiling, and took a deep breath. "Thank you for that supremely pleasant image, Lovise."

"I try."

"However, even if we write off the snowmen as the work of youths with too much time and entirely inadequate parental supervision, that still leaves the pamphlets. Furthermore, Captain Vilmarsen's men are being called into roughly double the amount of tavern brawls as is usual for this time of year. There is even a group of women knitting sweaters for Hans Westergaard and trying to bake cakes for him!" Chancellor Tennfjord exploded.

"Gudrun, he's a handsome young man," Madam Voll protested. "If there weren't a few young women losing their heads over him—"

"They're not all young women!"

"When it comes to a young man with Hans Westergaard's good looks, _all_ women are young women, if only in their minds," Madam Voll shrugged. "As I was saying, if there weren't a few women of varying ages acting like love struck schoolgirls, we should be having far bigger problems than one treason trial."

"And what would those problems be?" Chancellor Tennfjord snapped.

Madam Voll actually paused in her knitting. "… Ragnarok?"

"Oh, for the gods' sake, Lovise!"

"What?"

Chancellor Tennfjord shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I would ask you to be serious, except I'm very much afraid that you are being serious." She turned to Elsa. "Your Majesty, I would like permission to question Leiv Oveson directly and ascertain who is paying for his services."

"No," Elsa replied.

"Your Majesty! I truly must insist—"

"_No_, Chancellor. Hans Westergaard's trial has to be fair." Elsa swallowed. "If—if we can get a guilty verdict from twelve ordinary citizens, then that might do a great deal to calm down the … fervor in the city. If, however, it gets out – _and it will_ – that officials of the Crown attempted to bully Hans's counsel, it will throw the whole trial into doubt, and everything that's currently happening will just get worse."

"See. I told you," Madam Voll muttered to whatever it was she was knitting.

"I know," the Chancellor sighed. "Your Majesty, I must ask you to reconsider. I do not like the mood in the city. This trial may have been a mistake. It's bringing up … a great many bad feelings that were buried for the past six months."

Elsa glanced out the window. The snow was gently falling. She took a deep breath. "Chancellor … the snow can bury a great deal of ugliness. But when the spring comes and the snow melts, the ugliness is back again."

"Meaning, Your Majesty?"

"If all Hans Westergaard's trial is doing is bringing out feelings that were already present, just masked, I'd much rather those feelings were brought to the surface and dealt with. Otherwise, who knows when they might come out?" Elsa shrugged. "We know that the mood might be sour now, and we're expecting it. It might be easier to deal with these problems now than in the future."

Chancellor Tennfjord sighed. Madam Voll clucked her tongue and shook her head. "I _told_ you."

"Yes, yes, you did, Lovise. Your Majesty, I apologize for trespassing on your time."

"To say nothing of _my_ time," grumbled Madam Voll, though she caught Elsa's eye and winked. She followed Chancellor Tennfjord out the door, trying to stuff her knitting back into her reticule and having limited success.

As soon as the door behind them closed, Elsa leaned forward, cradling her head in her hands.

Her concentration was gone. And – she glanced at the clock – she only had five minutes until her meeting with Minister Falk and Nick. _Ambassador Solberg,_ she reminded herself. She couldn't go calling him Nick in a formal situation.

That left her with time to do – nothing. Except … one thing …

Elsa smiled.

She opened her desk drawer, the third from the top, and pulled out the one thing inside. It was a brown box, marked only with a J on the top. Tall enough to hold a double layer of chocolates, but narrow enough to always leave Elsa wanting more.

And it was a _brand new_ box. A brand new sampler box of chocolates from Jorgen's! There was truly something to be said for the simple pleasures in life.

She could drive herself wild with the anticipation. However, she only had – she glanced at the clock – four minutes until her meeting. So slowly, reverentially, she took the top off the box.

She expected to see two neat rows of chocolates – dark chocolate, white chocolate, and milk chocolate – before her. She expected to see chocolate decorated with icing or maybe with nuts sticking out. She expected to have to play a guessing game to figure out where the caramel-filled chocolates were, or perhaps grab a white chocolate and enjoy the sweet flavor.

She didn't see that.

For a moment her brain seemed to be operating on two different speeds. Part of it noticed what was in the box – two rows of slick, slimy, raw meat, in vague triangle shapes with pins stuck in them – but all it thought was, _Huh, they almost look like little hearts …_

Then the rest of her mind caught up, and she screamed.

The door to her study flew open the moment the first scream came out. "Your Majesty!" cried out Minister Falk. A guard followed him in, sword already drawn, and Nick was right behind. Elsa barely had a chance to jump up, eyes trained on the sword, when Chancellor Tennfjord and Madam Voll stumbled in behind the three men.

"What happened? We heard a scream!" said Madam Voll.

"I'm fine. I'm fine!" Elsa said, even though her hands were shaking, her heart was racing, and she couldn't take her eyes off that sword. The guard saw where she was staring, looked around, and carefully sheathed the sword. "It's j-just – my chocolates—"

She pointed, or tried to. A small line of ice spikes grew on the desk.

Elsa shrieked, her hands pressed against her mouth to muffle it. _No, no, no, no! I can't lose control! I can't!_ She stumbled backward, hit her chair, tripped on the hem of her skirt and fell.

When her rear hit the floor, a circle of ice formed beneath it and started to spread.

_NO!_ Elsa scooted back against the wall, her hands still clamped over her mouth. Her breath was coming in short pants and every part of her was trembling.

_Can't lose control—can't—conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't feel!_

The ice still spread. The wind outside picked up.

"El—Queen Elsa!" Someone was coming closer. Elsa curled into a ball and tried to hold the ice in.

"Queen Elsa." Someone came around the desk. Nick. He crouched in front of her, trying to smile. "It's all right. You're all right. You're safe here."

_Safe? I'm not worried about me being safe! _You're_ not safe here! Get out before I hurt you! Like I hurt—_

_Anna …_

_Love will thaw!_

Elsa closed her eyes. _Love will thaw …_

She focused on Anna, thinking of snowball fights in the courtyard, impromptu "slumber parties" in her room, even that one day when Anna had somehow twisted Kristoff's arm into teaching both of them to drive a sled. Her heart didn't stop racing, and her breathing didn't slow. But the room grew warmer. She heard the wind outside die down.

When she opened her eyes, the ice was gone. Elsa went limp against the wall, her hands finally falling from her mouth.

Nick was still crouched in front of her, still – smiling? It was the kind of smile one would give to a spooked horse or a frightened child, a desperate attempt to reassure the other party that everything was all right. "See? You're safe."

Elsa didn't trust herself to speak.

"Here." He extended a hand to her. "Do you need help getting up?"

Elsa stared at the hand and gulped.

"Did you hurt yourself when you fell?" asked Nick.

She looked into his eyes. They were still warm and friendly, even behind the spectacles. Elsa shook her head.

"Then let me help you up. Please?"

Slowly, Elsa reached out and grasped his hand. Touching him was like touching a doorknob on a frigid day; the sudden spark made her gasp.

His grasp was firm, though, and he was able to help her up. "There. Everything all right? Nothing hurting now?"

Her rear was a little sore, but that was only to be expected. Elsa shook her head. When she did, a glint of metal caught her eye.

The guard. His sword was half out of the sheath. Elsa squealed and stumbled back again. Nick caught her around the shoulders before she could fall.

Chancellor Tennfjord saw where she was looking. "You! You, get _out_!" She actually shoved the guard, though it didn't move him so much as an inch. "Get Captain Olhouser!"

"Do we really need the Captain of the Palace Guard?" asked Minister Falk, even as the guard saluted and ran into the corridor.

"I'll say," replied Madam Voll. Somehow she had seized the opportunity to get closer to the desk. "Have a look at this!"

Elsa didn't want to take another look. She closed her eyes and buried her head on Nick's shoulder. He hadn't let go of her, and the thought of asking him was not one Elsa wanted to contemplate.

She heard two sets of feet coming closer. "What on …" Minister Falk started.

"Chicken hearts," Madam Voll answered. "With _pins_ stuck in them! Oh, Your Majesty, you poor dear! No wonder you got a shock!"

Nick started to rub her arm, almost absently.

"How …" Something in Chancellor Tennfjord's tone made Elsa look up. The Chancellor's face was ashen, and she was staring at the box. "How did they get in here?"

Three sets of eyes turned to Elsa. Her mouth went dry, but she knew she had to speak. "I … I keep a box of chocolates in my desk … in the third drawer …"

A sudden laugh – from Minister Falk, and three murderous gazes turned to him. "No, no! It's – Your Majesty," he turned to Elsa, "that's where your father kept the brandy! That's all!"

"Oh for Asgard's sake!" Chancellor Tennfjord rolled her eyes. "Of all the _times_ …" She reached forward and grabbed the bell pull. "Someone is going to have to answer for this," she muttered.

Somewhat irrationally, Elsa found herself hoping it wouldn't be her.

"Elsa?" murmured a voice close to her ear. She looked up to see Nick smiling nervously at her. "I think you need to sit down. Can I help you get to the sofa?"

The sofa. Elsa looked across the room at the sofa placed perpendicular to the fireplace. Her father used to nap on that sofa. When she was little – before the accident – sometimes her mother would send her and Anna into the study to wake him up with tickles and snow if he threatened to be late for dinner.

Elsa nodded. Nick guided her across the room – her councilors seemed to barely notice they were moving – and he settled her on the sofa. Elsa scooted down to the far end, which still had the pillow her father used to rest his head on, grabbed that pillow and clung to it.

"Queen Elsa." Elsa looked up to find Nick frowning down on her. "Perhaps I ought to—"

"Don't go!" Elsa whispered. She glanced at her councilors, but they were clustered around the box and conferring with each other. "Please?"

Nick looked startled. "Of course not. Not if you don't want me to." He slowly lowered himself to the chair across from her, his eyebrows knit together as he watched her.

Elsa couldn't meet his gaze. She stared at her lap and hugged the pillow.

"… Elsa?" he whispered. "It's all right, you know. Having a bad … reaction." Elsa still didn't have it in her to look up. "It's only natural."

She didn't feel natural. Nothing about this felt natural.

"Will—will you tell me if you need—"

He never got to finish the sentence. "What in Niflhel is going on here?" cried a voice like a booming trumpet as the door slammed open. Elsa squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears like a child. Pounding footsteps followed the voice. "I was told there was a security breach and there were _no guards on the Queen_!"

"That would be correct, Captain," Chancellor Tennfjord snapped. "The fool who was in here first kept waving his sword and was only making the situation worse."

"Worse? Worse how? And where is the Queen?"

"Right behind you," said Madam Voll, "and _don't touch that sword_!" added all three of the councilors.

Elsa dared to open her eyes just in time to see Madam Voll grab Captain Olhouser by the epaulets, pull him down and whisper something to him. Captain Olhouser's eyes went wide, then narrowed, and then he scowled.

"And keep that in mind, you big oaf!" Madam Voll finished, finally letting him go. Captain Olhouser was still scowling as he straightened. Elsa looked away before he could say anything to her.

"And this security breach?" the Captain sighed.

Chancellor Tennfjord waved to the box. Elsa watched the Captain stride to the desk.

He didn't speak at first. Then Elsa heard him sigh. "What I see here is a nasty prank. Not a security breach."

"Captain, do I need to spell it out for you? It was a nasty prank today, but tomorrow it could be poison!" Minister Falk snapped.

"What?"

"This is a _chocolate_ box!" Chancellor Tennfjord's finger jabbed toward it. "She keeps one in here!"

"What?" Even though Captain Olhouser's back was still ramrod straight, Elsa could see the shock ripple through him. "What is Her Majesty doing keeping food in an unsecured location?"

"How in the gods' name is _her study_ not a secure location?" Minister Falk fired back.

If Captain Olhouser had an answer, Elsa didn't hear it. She groaned and rested her head in her hands.

There was a long moment of silence when she did that.

"Your Majesty …" Elsa dared to look up when she heard it was Chancellor Tennfjord speaking. "Perhaps it would be best," the Chancellor didn't meet her eyes, "if you went somewhere … quiet for a while."

"Kai should be here in a minute. Where is Kai?" asked Madam Voll. She wandered over to the door and looked from side to side.

"Yes. He could take you to your chamber—"

"I could take her."

Every eye in the room turned to Nick. Elsa watched as he turned red from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. "I—that is, you'll probably need to ask Master Andersson some questions, and, er … I could take Her Majesty to—not her bedchamber! But …" He glanced sidelong at Elsa. "The library?"

"The library!" Elsa agreed. She probably would have agreed to a trip down to the dungeons at this point. "Yes—yes, that would be ideal."

"Your Majesty …" Chancellor Tennfjord started, her eyes narrowing.

"Are we truly considering allowing a _foreign national_—" started Captain Olhouser.

"Well, I think it's a grand idea!" Madam Voll interrupted. "Ambassador, if you would be so kind, please _do_ bring Her Majesty to the library, and stay with her until—until Princess Anna …"

"She's visiting the orphanage today," Elsa filled in.

"Until Princess Anna comes home from the orphanage!" Madam Voll said. "There. That's all settled!"

Nick glanced at Elsa, biting his lip, unsure. Elsa nodded. He extended a hand to her, helped her up, and tucked her arm in the crook of his. Without another word, he led her from the study.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Elsa could hear the argument resume. But somehow …

She still found it much easier to breathe.

* * *

"Sorry about this," Nick said, settling her down on another sofa. "The library, I mean. It was the first room I could think of that was going to be quiet and where we – I mean you – probably wouldn't be disturbed."

"No—no, this was a good idea." Elsa's heart rate was almost back to normal, and her breathing had slowed to something other than a desperate pant. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, focusing on breathing in and out slowly and carefully. It felt wonderful being able to do that.

Her eyes opened. "Thank—thank you, by the way. For everything."

Nick's cheeks and ears started to turn red again, but what Elsa was looking at was his grin. "Oh—don't bother to thank me. I just did what anybody else would have done."

_There were four other people in that room. They didn't do that._

"Do you want me to open a window?" Nick asked suddenly. He was already striding over to the window. "I wanted to suggest taking you to the little courtyard, but, well, I figured that would go over with them about as well as …"

"A lead balloon?" asked Elsa.

Nick chuckled. "Something like that. But do you want the window open?"

Elsa looked around. All she could imagine was snow blowing in, landing on a precious book, and ruining it. "I'll be fine. But thank you."

"It's no trouble!"

She glanced at Nick. Then she frowned. "I … I don't think that window even opens."

"Ah. Perhaps that would be a bit of trouble."

"It would. And I don't want to have to explain to Gerda why we broke a window," Elsa chuckled.

For some reason that made Nick turn to her with a frown. Elsa twisted her hands together. "… What?" she whispered.

"Oh! Nothing, noth—" Something, perhaps the expression on her face, made him pause. "Elsa …"

She tried to smile.

Slowly, Nick lowered himself to the sofa across from Elsa. Her hands were twisting and turning as he watched her, that frown back in place, brow furrowed. "Elsa … you're the Queen. Why shouldn't you break a window in your own castle if you want to?"

Elsa blinked. "Are you seriously asking me why I don't go around breaking windows?"

"Er—well, no, I mean—_obviously _there are plenty of good reasons why you shouldn't go around breaking windows—but on the other hand …" Nick sighed. "What could Gerda – or anyone else – say to you if you did break a window?"

"I … well, I don't suppose there really is anything she could say … but …"

Nick leaned forward, an expectant look on his face.

"… I don't know what you want me to say," Elsa admitted.

"I'm just … trying to figure something out." Nick caught his lower lip between his teeth, and Elsa caught herself staring at it in time to look away.

_What is _wrong_ with me?_

"… What?" she finally asked.

"Well, I …" He sighed. "All right, you have to understand, the only reigning monarch I've had a great deal of experience with is my uncle," he started. "And while I understand that his style of leadership is _hardly_ ideal, I …" Nick rubbed his chin. "He's the Duke. He's the most important person in the realm, and he knows it. He does what he pleases, and the rest of us have to put up with it. Now, let me repeat, that is not an ideal style of leadership, but on the other hand …" He sighed. "If he found a chocolate box full of … something nasty, the first words out of his guard's mouth wouldn't be to ask why he had food in an 'unsecure location.'"

Elsa groaned and rested her head in her hands.

"Elsa … I'm not trying to criticize."

"Really."

"No, I mean – blast, this is all coming out wrong." She listened as Nick got up and started to pace. "I guess – what I'm trying to say is – my uncle is the most important person in his world. He works for Weselton, or he did, but he would never suggest any course of action that benefited Weselton but hurt him. You … are in some ways the opposite. And …"

Elsa dared to look up.

Nick was still frowning at her, but now he looked sad, not angry or even puzzled. "I'm not sure what to make of that," he admitted. "Anyone can see how much you care about your people, how you'll sacrifice anything for them—"

Elsa snorted. "I doubt it's that obvious."

Nick didn't say anything, not at first. Then he said. "Elsa … do you know that the room always gets colder when you see my guards?"

Elsa's heart skipped a beat. "N-N-Nick …"

"Don't be frightened!" he said. He slid back onto the couch opposite her. Almost before Elsa realized what was happening, he'd taken her hands in his and was holding them. Elsa's eyes went wide – she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so warm.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd _liked_ feeling that warm.

"What—what I'm trying to say is—they make you uncomfortable, don't they?"

Elsa swallowed, but she nodded.

"Your own guard … made you uncomfortable …"

Elsa's throat was dry. She had to swallow a couple of times before she could speak. "The … sword."

Somewhat to her surprise, Nick was nodding. "And my guards – they wear the same uniform as … those other guards, aren't they? The Duke's?"

Elsa nodded.

"You … you can dismiss them at any time," Nick pointed out. "This is your home. You could have said that your guards were perfectly sufficient. But you didn't."

"That would be unreasonable."

Nick tilted his head a little to one side. "… Why?"

Elsa blinked. "Why? Those weren't the same guards. And I'm sorry, but even the Duke is bright enough to realize that a second attack on my person—"

"Your person," Nick repeated, eyebrows raised.

"… What?"

He let go of one of her hands only long enough to push his hair back from his face. Elsa watched as it flopped right back where it had been. "That's … that's awfully legalistic, isn't it? Your person. As if your person was separate from … well, _you_."

Elsa felt the temperature of the room drop. She drew her hands back, and though Nick's grip tightened for half a second, he let her go. She cradled her hands to her body, clutching them as if she was cold.

She could feel Nick watching her. She didn't look up, not wanting to see what he was thinking, or how he was looking at her.

But she had to say something. "I don't like talking about it."

"That's understandable."

_No, that's just it. You _don't_ understand._ "It's not just …" Elsa swallowed. It wasn't _just_ this, but this was enough to give her nightmares on its own. "It's not just what they almost did to … me." She swallowed and licked her lips. "It's what I almost did to … them."

"Elsa?" asked Nick. She dared to look up to find him looking thoroughly confused.

"I—surely you received a report?" she asked. Her hands were starting to shake now, and the expression on Nick's face had morphed into alarm.

"Elsa—look, I'm sorry for bringing it up, let's change the subject—"

"No. _No_." Elsa shook her head. "You—if they didn't tell you, you have to know. You have to! Why didn't they tell you?"

"Elsa, I'm not sure what you—"

"I almost killed them!" Elsa shouted. She threaded her hands in her hair, eyes squeezed shut. It was more than just her hands that were shaking.

But she wasn't thinking about that now.

_One guard pinned against the wall with ice spikes, growing. The other trapped behind a sliding wall of ice. The walls of her ice palace yellow and furious._

_Only a few more seconds. That was all it would take. Then they'd be gone, forever, and she could be in peace. Where everyone was safe from her and she was safe from everyone._

_There were footsteps pounding up the stairs, and while Elsa heard them, she didn't _hear_ them. Still, it did not occur to her to be alarmed when the footsteps came closer and stopped._

"_Queen Elsa!" Prince Hans. What was he doing here? She turned to look. "Don't be the monster they fear you are!"_

_She came to herself, panting._

Monster …

Monster …

I'm a monster …

_Then a crack of ice, she looked up and the chandelier was falling. Elsa grabbed her skirts and ran –_

_And everything went black._

"Monster," Elsa whispered.

She heard a gasp. Nick. She couldn't look up.

"Elsa … who's the monster?" he asked quietly.

Somehow she found it in her to laugh. "Who—who do you think?" Then, as if there was any room for doubt, "_Me_."

"What? No," Nick murmured. She heard the sofa creak as Nick stood. "No. Elsa, you are not a monster."

Footsteps—then more creaking. Her sofa.

She looked up. Nick was sitting next to her. There was just enough space between them to be decent – but it wouldn't take much to close it.

His hand reached for her. But it stopped midway. Elsa expected to see him move it away, remembering what he would be touching.

He didn't. Instead Nick caught her eye and smiled.

She saw the hand for what it was. An invitation. One she was free to accept or reject.

Slowly, she reached for his hand. When he grasped it, there was that electric shock again. This time Elsa was expecting it; this time it made it easier for her to breathe. She watched as Nick's thumb started to stroke the back of her hand.

He followed her gaze. "Oh—um—"

Elsa squeezed his hand. "Don't stop. Please."

"As—as you wish, m'lady." He swallowed, pulling at his cravat with his free hand. Then he felt her watching and smiled.

Elsa's gaze dropped. "Did … did you mean it?"

"Did I mean …?"

"That I'm not a monster." Before he could answer, she added, "The only reason I didn't kill those men is because Hans Westergaard stopped me! _Hans Westergaard_!"

"He probably had his own reasons for doing that," Nick pointed out. "But that's not important. No, really, Elsa, it's not." He frowned, pushing his hair back again.

Elsa bit her lip and watched as he thought.

"Elsa …" Nick blinked, staring somewhere in the vicinity of her knee. Then he looked up and his eyes met hers. "Let's say there's a … man. He's in his home, minding his own business, not hurting anyone. Then, without warning, a pair of ruffians burst into the house and start shooting at him with their crossbows. Somehow he grabs a weapon and—"

"It's not the same thing, Nick."

"—and he's able to return fire," Nick continued, stubbornly. "Somehow he manages to pin the two of them down, but the town guards run in before he can kill them. They say _one sentence_, and that's enough to stop him. Would you call that man a monster, Elsa?"

Elsa shook her head. "It's not the same."

"Elsa. Just answer. Please?"

"But it's not the—"

"Elsa."

Elsa's lips parted. She swallowed. "No. No, I wouldn't."

"And if the guards didn't get there in time and the man killed those other men? Would you call him a monster then? The ruffians came in and started firing right away."

"Well … no …"

"How is what you did any different, Elsa? Do you really think that the act of using ice and snow," he turned her hand over and started to stroke her palm, "instead of a crossbow or sword makes it any different?"

Elsa shook her head.

"Then why—"

"The winter," Elsa whispered.

"Eh?"

"The winter. That I caused. _That's _what makes it different." Elsa gulped. "Your uncle – the Duke – when he gave his orders to his men, he was heard. _End this winter_, that's what he said. That's what they were trying to do."

She heard Nick swallow. "I … see," he said.

So he finally saw. Elsa tried to withdraw her hand, sure he wouldn't want to be touching her any longer. But he didn't let go.

Instead, he inched closer. Not much closer, and Elsa had plenty of room to retreat. But she didn't.

"Did they try to talk to you, Elsa?" he asked. "Try to reason with you?"

Elsa shook her head.

"Did _anyone_ try to talk or reason with you?"

Elsa gulped. "Anna …"

Nick looked surprised. "She was there?"

"No, no—she came earlier. She—she told me what I'd done. I …" Elsa closed her eyes. "I lost control. I—I didn't _mean_ to. But I hurt her all the same …"

"Did these men know?"

"What? No, no. They would have had no way of knowing." Elsa sighed; she had been over this with the prosecution in Hans's trial a dozen times. If she didn't know the timeline by now, she never would. "Anna actually got back to the city after I did."

"So then as far as the Duke and his guards had any way of knowing, you hadn't harmed anyone, and if your powers were going a little … out of control, they hadn't tried any way peaceful way of stopping you. Elsa, even knowing what you accidentally did to Princess Anna, none of this justifies murder."

Elsa flinched and looked away.

"_Your_ murder." Nick gently laid a hand on her cheek and just as gently turned her to face him. "Hurting _you_. Killing _you_. They had no justification for that, Elsa, none."

Elsa swallowed. She found she couldn't look away from his eyes, narrowed in concern but watching her with an expression she couldn't read.

"And what I did kill them?" Elsa whispered.

"That wouldn't have been murder. That would have been self-defense." He grinned, his thumb stroking her cheek. "Surely I don't have to explain the difference to a Queen?"

Elsa rewarded that with a weak chuckle. "It's only a legal difference."

"No, Elsa. I think the moral difference came before the legal one." Nick caught his lip between his teeth again. "Elsa, I think you should … find some soldiers, or guards, that you can trust. Men who have been in—bad situations, who had to make the choice to kill or be killed. Ask them if they ever lost control. Ask them if they ever had to be pulled back from the brink when they had just been fighting for their lives and hadn't realized that the fight was over."

_There—there are other people that have been through this?_ Elsa's eyes went wide. _I'm not the only one?_

"Being afraid, fighting for your life doesn't make you a monster, Elsa," Nick whispered. Somehow his hand had found some of her hair, and he was twisting it gently around his finger. "It makes you human."

_Human …_

They were so close together now, practically—no, they were touching. Shoulder to shoulder and leg to leg. Nick was watching her face like he'd like to draw it, and Elsa couldn't have looked away if she tried.

She didn't want to.

She watched Nick's Adam's apple suddenly bob up and down. He inched closer.

Elsa closed her eyes and leaned toward him, knowing on some level deeper than thought what would happen next—

It didn't. The door to the library flew open and somehow she and Nick sprung to opposite sides of the couch.

"Elsa!"

That was Anna, panicked Anna. She hadn't even taken off her cloak and hood. She ran across the library and jumped onto the couch, sandwiching herself between Elsa and Nick. "Are you all right?" She grabbed Elsa's shoulders and looked her up and down. "I got a note from Gerda telling me to come home! She said it was urgent!"

"I'm—I'm fine, Anna. I got a … nasty surprise, but …" She looked beyond Anna, to Nick. He was leaning forward, rubbing his face, and seemingly working hard to control his breathing. "Nick helped me."

Nick looked up, surprised. His eyes met Elsa's. "I—I did?"

"Nick?" Anna murmured, raising an eyebrow at Elsa. When Elsa looked away, she turned to Nick.

Nick didn't last a second under that inquisitive gaze. "I—I should go. Now that you're in—in far more capable hands than mine. It—it was an honor to assist, Your Majesty."

"Nick—"

He smiled at her, then bowed once to her, once to Anna, and hurried from the library.

Elsa watched the door after he had gone for far longer than was proper.

"So …" Elsa was drawn from her reverie by Anna. Anna was fingering one of her plaits, playing with it as she eyed Elsa. "What was it that I interrupted?"

* * *

**Thank you very much to all of my reviewers! Hope you enjoyed this latest installment, and please, review if you have the time or the inclination!**

**(And don't worry, Anna won't be bursting in at the worst possible moment **_**forever**_**.)**


	13. It's Agony to Wait

**Thank you very much to my reviewers, KP009, Jacob Flores, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, RJCA27, and CrunchDeNumbers. I grin every time I read your feedback!**

* * *

Chapter 13: It's Agony to Wait

"So, it's been almost a week and you still haven't told me what it was that I interrupted."

Elsa put her hairbrush down. It was the night before Hans's trial was due to begin. She and Anna were in her bedroom. Anna had asked to spend the night in Elsa's room, and Elsa couldn't tell her no.

But this was not a slumber party. Elsa had been very firm about that. While slumber parties involved laughter, and fun, and far more chocolate than was good for either of them, they also involved staying up very late and being utterly useless the next morning. They couldn't afford that tomorrow.

Anna had agreed very easily, which made Elsa suspect that her being firm hadn't actually made an impression and wouldn't make a difference in the long run.

So as she sat at her vanity, brushing her hair one last time before going to bed, she sighed. She turned around on the stool and took a deep breath. "I—I'm not—"

She blinked. "Anna! You shouldn't eat all of that chocolate! You'll never get to sleep."

Anna already had the next piece in her hand. Though they had been forbidden from keeping food in "unsecure locations" – meaning anywhere other than the kitchen, where it was thoroughly checked when it was brought in and again when it was sent up – Captain Olhouser had been bright enough to realize that attempting to forbid chocolate altogether was only likely to result in him needing to find a new job. So now when the sisters wanted chocolate, they rang down to the kitchen and a tray (not a box) was sent up.

Anna must have ordered a jumbo tray, and she was already making a dent in it. She surveyed the chocolate piece she was holding critically. "See, I might think you made a good point," she replied, "except I'm not going to get much sleep anyway. So," she popped the piece in her mouth, "I might as well eat chocolate."

At least that was what Elsa thought she said. It was a little hard to tell around the chocolate.

Unfortunately Elsa couldn't argue with that logic, so she ran the brush through her hair one last time and started to braid it.

"Elsa?"

"Hmm?"

"… Can I do that?"

"Do—" Elsa paused. "Braid my hair?"

"Yes."

Slowly, Elsa lowered her hands. "Sure. If … if you like." She considered that. "But—but please wash your hands first."

"What's the matter, Elsa, you don't want chocolate in your hair?" Anna snickered. Elsa listened as her stocking feet padded across the floor to the basin. One quick wash and she was back to where Elsa was. She took Elsa's hair in her hands and started to French braid it with her deft, quick fingers.

"Marte must have such an easier time with your hair than Britta has with mine," Anna remarked.

"… Really?"

"Well, yeah! Mine is so thin and flat. Yours actually has some body to it." Anna playfully tugged on the braid. "Why do you think I'm eighteen years old and I still have my hair in plaits seventy-five percent of the time? It's the only style my hair will hold!"

"Your hair always looks very nice when Britta does something more elaborate with it."

"Maybe, but you don't see all the agony it takes to get to that point." Anna reached past Elsa to grab the hair tie. "There, you're all set."

"Thank you." Elsa put her braid over her shoulder. "Do you want me to do your hair too?"

"Hmm. Well, I normally leave it down …"

"True," Elsa replied, "but might I point out that if you braided it, it wouldn't get as tangled overnight, which would mean you wouldn't have to spend so much time untangling it, so you might get a few extra minutes to sleep?"

Anna's eyes went wide and she practically shoved Elsa off the bench as she slid onto it. "Do me! Do it in a French braid like yours."

Elsa laughed. "All right, all right, hold your horses!" She stood behind her sister and quickly braided her hair. After years of practicing on her own hair, doing it with someone else's was a breeze. "There," she said. "All set."

Anna grinned in the mirror. She waved her hand until she found Elsa. Elsa realized what Anna wanted, and she crouched so that Anna's and her faces were level in the mirror.

Not for the first time, she was a little startled by how much she looked like her sister. They had the same heart-shaped faces, the same lips, and the same eyes. Anna had more freckles, and Elsa was paler even in the height of summer, but if it wasn't for their hair color and the fact that Elsa was significantly taller, it would be difficult to tell them apart.

Anna was grinned. "Two beautiful princesses …"

Elsa raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, fine. Princess and _Queen_." She giggled. "It's no wonder we get chased by all the boys."

"All the boys?" Elsa tapped Anna's shoulder. "Who's chasing you? Other than Kristoff."

"Oh, you'd be surprised. All I have to do is show up to a party without Kristoff and every young and single man is convinced that I'm ripe for the taking." Anna rolled her eyes. "Not to mention a fair amount of men who are neither."

"Eew."

"I know. But I've found that talking about in detail how _good_ it felt to punch Hans into the fjord tends to chase away most of them. The rest, I talk about fighting off wolves with a lute, and all I have to do is get a _little_ carried away in the reenactment." Anna's eyes sparkled and she winked.

Elsa snickered.

"But what can I say?" Anna mock-sighed. "Not all men are perfect gentlemen like my Kristoff …"

Remembering the faces Kristoff would make when the sisters were able to get him in a suit and bring him out on the town, Elsa giggled.

"… Or your Nick …"

Elsa's eyes widened and she stood up. "I—I—I um …"

Anna effortlessly turned around on the bench, leaning forward with her chin balanced in her hands. "_Well_?" she asked, batting her eyelashes.

Elsa bit her lip. "We—we haven't had a minute alone together since last week …"

"Well, _that's_ not surprising, with the extra shadows Olhouser insisted we get," Anna rolled her eyes. She was referring to the guards Captain Olhouser had insisted follow them around at all times. "Poor Kristoff turns six shades of red every time I kiss him and the guard's around."

"Anna! You're kissing Kristoff in front of the guard?"

"Well, yeah! How else is he going to get the hint to guard me from outside the room? Or at least turn around?"

"You could try dismissing him," Elsa pointed out. "If this is about protection, well, Kristoff is at least as capable of protecting you as any guard."

"And you're doubly capable of protecting yourself than any guard," Anna fired back, "so why is it that you haven't had any time alone with Nick?"

"I …" Elsa twisted her hands together and started to pace.

"Elsa? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Elsa!" Anna jumped up from the stool and put herself in front of Elsa. "Hey, this is supposed to be _fun_. We're sisters! Talking and laughing and teasing each other about boys—it's part of the package!"

"I—I know. It's not that."

Anna tilted her head to one side. "Then what is it?"

"I …" Elsa sighed and sank onto the bed. "I don't know. About Nick. About any of this! I don't know what to think or what to say or how to feel …"

"Well, there's your problem." Anna hopped on the bed next to Elsa. She put her arm around Elsa's shoulder and hugged her closer. "You're not supposed to _know_ how to feel. You're just supposed to feel it."

Elsa swallowed, staring at her hands. "I'm … not very good at feeling things."

"That's not true. You're _very_ good at feeling things," Anna replied. She hesitated. "Maybe you're … _too_ good at feeling things."

Elsa blinked. "What—what is that supposed to mean?"

"Elsa … you locked yourself in your room for thirteen years because you were afraid of hurting me," Anna murmured. "You refused to let anyone in, anyone get close, because you were afraid you might hurt them, too."

"That's not being too good at feeling. That's being—"

"Too good at feeling," Anna interrupted. "You couldn't stand the guilt, so you shut yourself away rather than feel it."

Elsa blinked. _Conceal, don't feel …_

"But you don't have to do that anymore. You know the secret, remember? Love will thaw," Anna continued.

"Love will thaw," Elsa repeated, as if by saying it often enough, she could make it her new mantra and put the frozen tundra of _Conceal, don't feel_ forever behind her.

"I mean … not that it's not _normal_ to be confused, at first," Anna went on. "Olaf had to tell me how I felt about Kristoff. And how Kristoff felt about me. _Olaf_! Who had literally been born yesterday at that point!"

She knew too well what conversation Anna was referring to, but she giggled anyway. "Not literally."

"Whatever. It was less than a week! And he still figured it out long before I did. And I was _looking_ for love. You …" Anna leaned her head on Elsa's shoulder. "You don't have to be afraid of love, you know. It can be great, if you let it be."

"I—I suppose. I don't know." Elsa bit her lip.

"You'll figure it out. You're smart. I have faith in you." Anna gave her another squeeze. "And if you don't, I'll send Olaf in to get your head on straight."

Elsa snickered. "Half the time he doesn't have his own head on straight."

"Only physically."

"True." Elsa leaned her head on top of Anna's. Together they stared out the window. It was a quiet night, and the moon shone brightly. Its silver light bounced off the snow-covered roofs of the houses below. "… Anna?"

"Hmm?"

"If I ask you something, will you not make fun of me?" Elsa considered what she was asking. "Too much?"

"Too much, I think I can manage that."

Elsa swallowed. "I … I miss him. I know it sounds crazy, we see each other almost every day—"

"Yeah, and what do you talk about? Tariffs and taxes and trade routes? Doesn't count," Anna snorted. "But what was the question?"

"I …" Elsa glanced at her sister. "What … does that mean?"

Anna blinked. She looked away, eyes narrowed in thought.

Then she turned back to Elsa with a grin. "It means you're starting to feel things, sis. You'll be in love like the rest of us before you know it!"

* * *

They spent the rest of evening, before Elsa insisted that they sleep, giggling and talking and eating chocolate. Excepting Anna's mention of punching him into the fjord, Hans did not come up. He was there, lurking in the shadows – but the sisters ignored him, and in so doing, they managed to make themselves believe that they had banished his ghost strongly enough to get some sleep.

In the morning, Hans was back with a vengeance. He lurked in the small breakfast room, hovering over their plates.

Elsa stared at the delicious spread the servants had set out. Cinnamon raisin toast, bacon and sausage, eggs prepared three different ways, biscuits, cheese and spreads on the side, _chocolate chip pancakes_ – they had outdone themselves today. And the thought of eating any of it made her want to vomit. All she wanted to do was drink gallons of the delicious tea they had prepared, but that would only require to run to the privy every ten minutes after the trial started, and she knew that was not the image she wanted to present.

She glanced at Anna. Anna had made herself a "breakfast sandwich," as she called it: sausage, egg, and cheese squeezed between two slices of biscuit. Normally she would eat them with abandon. Today she was barely picking at her sandwich. She'd managed to finish about a quarter of it.

Kristoff, meanwhile, was inhaling food as if he would never see another meal. Elsa was glad to see it. It didn't necessarily mean that he was any less nervous than they were, but at least somebody was eating the food so it wouldn't all go to waste.

"You should eat, Elsa," Anna said.

"So should you."

"I did eat." She gestured to her sandwich. "You haven't touched anything. At least take some toast."

Elsa took some toast and wondered what she was supposed to do with it.

"Good girl. Now put some butter on it."

Elsa rolled her eyes, but she did so.

"Hey—Anna," Kristoff asked, "are you going to finish that?" he asked, nodding toward her plate.

"No, you can take it." Anna pushed the plate in his direction without looking. "Now take a bite, El …"

Elsa's toast was halfway to her mouth when Anna paused, her eyes growing wide and staring at Kristoff. "Anna?" Elsa asked.

Kristoff (who had somehow managed to scarf down half the breakfast sandwich in the time it took Anna to come to her mysterious realization) swallowed, staring nervously at Anna. "You … you said you weren't going to eat it."

Anna stared from the plate to Kristoff and back to the plate again. "We … we really _do_ finish each other's sandwiches …"

"I guess we—wait, _what_?"

Anna didn't elaborate. Instead, she made another sandwich, cut it in half, and deposited half on Kristoff's plate. "There! Now I'm finishing your sandwich!"

Kristoff glanced at Elsa, gaze asking, _What am I missing?_ Elsa could only shrug.

She wondered if she could maybe get away with putting the toast down. But she wasn't going to have that kind of luck. "You eat, too, Elsa. We're all going to need our strength!"

And somehow she was irrepressible, feisty Anna again, eating and chipper and facing whatever lay ahead with determination and a slightly manic smile. Elsa was not that way. Her response had always been to hide from trouble, to run away and escape it. Failing that, she kept her back straight and hid everything behind an icy mask.

She could do that today. She _had_ to do that today. Elsa swallowed and took one bite of buttered toast. She would need her strength.

They continued to eat, only the clink of cutlery and the sounds of tea, coffee and hot chocolate being poured breaking the silence. Elsa managed two whole slices of toast and felt rather smugly proud of herself.

A knock came from the door. Kai stuck his head in. Elsa could see the tall kepis of the guards behind him. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, Master Bjorgman – it's time."

Elsa swallowed. "Very well." She finished her tea to soothe her suddenly dry throat and stood. Kristoff and Anna followed. She headed to the door, the guards falling in behind their little group.

When they got to the front hall, Marte, Britta, and Gerda were waiting there with cloaks and coats. Kristoff took his from Gerda while Marte helped Elsa into her cloak and Britta helped Anna into hers. Elsa blinked when she saw Anna was wearing the bright pink cloak she had acquired during the eternal winter. And the hat was … a brown beanie?

"Wait—_you've_ had my hat all this time?" Kristoff asked.

"Yes," Anna replied. She blinked innocently at him. "Do you have a problem with that?"

His mouth opened … and shut again. "It looks better on you than it ever did on me."

"Thanks."

The expression on Kristoff's face was hard for Elsa to read, but she sensed that her presence was hindering him from whatever it was he really he wanted to do. There was little help for that, though.

Kristoff put an arm around Anna's shoulders. She smiled at him. They headed outside into the pale predawn light. The trial started sharply at nine o'clock, but they were getting there early to hopefully beat the crowds.

When they stepped outside, the cold was bracing to Elsa, and she felt herself drawing in a deep breath. The courtyard was mostly clear, save for the single sleigh with Sven connected to it. Elsa had insisted that they take the sleigh, with Kristoff driving and Sven pulling, to the trial. Captain Olhouser had looked close to apoplexy, but eventually he had agreed.

Kristoff and Anna got first into the sleigh. Elsa was about to follow, but a voice stayed her. "Queen Elsa!"

Elsa's eyes flew wide. _Nick!_

He jogged up to her. He was leading a blue roan horse behind him and he was dressed for a ride. "I—I just wanted …"

He glanced nervously behind Elsa and swallowed. Elsa didn't dare to look away from him. "Y-yes?"

Nick blinked and focused again on her. Something softened in his expression. "I just wanted to wish you good luck for today." Impulsively he took her hand in his. "With—everything."

"Thank you," Elsa murmured. Her cheeks were turning pink, and she knew it, but she was having a hard time caring.

Nick's eyes kept flickering between her and the guards. Finally he gulped and kissed her hand. "You—you'll do fine. Everything will be fine. I know it."

"Thank you," Elsa replied. For some reason she was smiling from ear to ear.

With one last nervous glance from the guards to her and back to the guards again, Nick bowed and backed away. Elsa took that as her cue to leave and turned.

Kristoff had one eyebrow raised, but Anna was grinning. Elsa grinned, too, and—was that a _giggle_ that came out of her?

She didn't walk to the sled. She floated. Maybe she literally floated; it wouldn't be the first time her powers had surprised her. She settled herself in, and not long after, the guards had hopped on the running board at the back of the sled and they were off.

Elsa permitted herself one last look after they left the open gates. Nick was standing in the courtyard still, patting his horse's nose. He lifted his hand to wave.

Elsa waved back, still smiling.

_Maybe there's something to this love thing after all …_

* * *

Her beautiful, extraordinary, utterly perfect mood could never last long. It was already fading by the time they crossed the causeway. When the tall courthouse came into sight, it almost disappeared, except for a small kernel of happiness that Elsa held near her heart.

However, when they pulled to a stop, the kernel almost disappeared. "What the …" murmured Kristoff.

There was a row of snowmen built in front of the courthouse. For once they weren't in obscene poses or anatomically correct. They were just snowmen, except in one small detail. Each one had a carrot for a nose.

And each carrot was broken. Sometimes the other half was lying in front of the snowmen. Sometimes it was still hanging by a slender thread to the rest of the snowman. Seeing the snowmen, and the noses, and thinking of Olaf made a chill run down her spine.

"Not a pretty sight, is it?" All of their heads turned to look at Captain Vilmarsen, who was coming out from the courthouse. "My men will get rid of these before too many others show up. Don't worry about it."

"Well, they're not _so_ bad," Anna replied. "Except for the … noses …"

"It's creepy," Kristoff replied. He hopped out of the sled and extended a hand to Anna. "And snowmen without noses are even creepier."

Elsa, meanwhile, got out of the sled as well, one of the guards holding out a hand that she took purely for form's sake. She took a deep breath, smoothed her skirt, and turned to the Captain. "Please do see that these snowmen are removed before too many people come, Captain. I think the last thing we need today are rumors and whisper campaigns."

The Captain took a long drag on his foul-smelling cigar. "Hear, hear," he replied. "With any luck I'll have them gone before Hummel shows up. Won't _that_ be the day …" He took a deep breath, smiling and seemingly in the grips of a pleasant fantasy.

"Hey!" Kristoff's voice cut through. "Sven, what are you doing? Don't eat that! You don't know where it's been!"

Sven had half a carrot in his mouth. He turned to Kristoff with a look on his face that seemed to only say, _What?_

"_Seriously_?" asked Anna.

"What?" Kristoff asked.

"You. You are criticizing the reindeer for his eating habits? _You?_"

"… I don't understand."

"Kristoff! You're the one who shares carrots with the—"

The laugh came out of nowhere. At first Elsa didn't realize it came from her. But when she did …

It all made so much sense! Sven, standing with the carrot half out of his mouth, not sure what he'd done wrong. Kristoff, not understanding the irony. Anna, exasperated and rolling her eyes.

Whoever had made those snowmen had wanted to intimidate them. But they hadn't reckoned with Sven.

"Here," Elsa said, grabbing another carrot. She held it out to Sven, who quickly scarfed down the one he was eating and took the carrot from Elsa. "Captain, could you please ask your men to collect all the carrots and put them in the sled? It's a shame to let good food go to waste …" She scratched Sven behind the ears. "And I know just the reindeer who deserves some extra carrots today."

"Um – all right, Your Majesty." The Captain snapped his fingers and two city guards climbed into the sled, probably to park it (and Sven) somewhere out of the way. "We'll get these snowmen cleared out. But you should probably go inside before the crowds show up."

Elsa looked at the tall courthouse, swallowed, and nodded. She started toward the door.

Three steps in, she paused and turned. Kristoff and Anna remained behind, staring confused at her. Elsa gulped. "Well? Are you coming?"

They glanced at each other. They shrugged at each other. They started moving.

_Well …_ Elsa thought as she made her way to the large double doors, _here goes nothing …_

* * *

**And yes, I am ending the chapter right here. What can I say? I'm evil like that!**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Be sure to leave a review if you have thoughts you want to share. I always love feedback!**


	14. Conceal, Don't Feel

**I hope the wait wasn't too agonizing. But to make up for it, here is my longest chapter yet!**

* * *

Chapter 14: Conceal, Don't Feel

Elsa settled herself on the tall, throne-like chair and took a deep breath.

In the royal box at the courthouse, she was alone, save for a pair of guards. Kristoff and Anna were in separate rooms, as were all of the witnesses for the prosecution. Technically Elsa should have been kept apart from the trial as well, but since she was the sovereign and this was a treason trial, it was considered to be more important that she be in the royal box. When Kristoff and Anna had testified, they would be allowed to join her.

There was already a faint buzz in the courtroom. The royal box was high, both for reasons of security and view. Elsa could see all of the important players in the drama – the judge, the witnesses, all of the lawyers and of course the defendant. The only people she couldn't see were the jury members, and they couldn't see her, either. Elsa was glad for reasons that had nothing to do with justice: if the jury couldn't see her, they couldn't watch every expression on her face and use that as part of the evidence at the trial.

Still, there was such a thing as being too private. She couldn't have asked Kai to come, because he would be testifying, but now that she was here, she wished she had asked Gerda for her company. Or she wished she had brought a book. Or something. Anything was better than sitting here, wearing a mask of icy calm, and wishing she were almost anywhere else.

The buzz from below was picking up. Most of the audience in the courtyard was behind Elsa, separated by a wall to boot. That was probably a blessing, but somehow being able to hear the others but not see them made Elsa too nervous to remember that if she couldn't see them, they couldn't see her.

_Breathe, Elsa. Breathe. Everything will be fine. You are in control._

She folded her hands neatly in her lap and continued to tell herself that. The more she told herself, the more likely she would be to believe it.

"The court will come to order!"

Elsa started in spite of herself. She leaned forward to see the bailiff walking in. There was a rustle of cloth to Elsa's right. That must have been the jury entering their box.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Voll!"

Elsa momentarily panicked. Was she supposed to rise? She was the Queen! But this was Madam Voll's courtroom …

While she sat frozen in indecision, Madam Voll processed into the courtroom. She wore the severe black robes favored by judges in Arendelle. The only hints of personality were the lacy white collar she had added and the reticule that hung from her wrist.

Madam Voll didn't smile as she sat. She nodded to the bailiff, who said, "You may be seated. Bring in the defendant!"

There was a stir near the back of the courtroom. Elsa caught herself holding her breath but couldn't force herself to stop.

Hans was led in through a side door. Since he was presumed innocent, he was not in chains. Someone – probably his lawyer, Master Oveson – had managed to find him a suit not unlike the one he had worn when he first came to Arendelle. In his white tailcoat and stylish blue trousers, he certainly reminded Elsa of the handsome young man who had waltzed into Arendelle and swept her younger sister off her feet.

Elsa gulped and created a small ball of snow to squeeze.

The buzz increased as Hans was led into the dock. Madam Voll had to rap sharply with her gavel to achieve quiet. "The court will come to order!" Then she turned to Hans.

Maybe it was the light, or the angle, but Elsa's eyes widened. She had never seen kindly Madam Voll look so harsh and unforgiving. "Hans Westergaard, you are brought before this court on the charge of attempted murder in the case of Princess Anna of Arendelle, attempted murder in the case of Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and treason. How do you plead, sir?"

"Not guilty to all charges, Your Honor!"

He sounded brave, mostly. Firm, but not too confident. It was masterful. Elsa felt her stomach starting to sink.

"Let the record show that Hans Westergaard has pleaded not guilty. Prosecutor, the floor is yours."

The prosecutor stood up. Mistress Swenhaugen was a tall woman, handsome and middle-aged. Her brown hair was artfully arranged into fashionable curls. Beyond that, her appearance was all business.

"Thank you, Your Honor," she said. Her voice was soft, deceptively so. She turned to the jury's box. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," she began, "the Crown has only a simple story to tell. We all remember the events of last summer – how the Queen was crowned, how the stress of the coronation caused her mastery over the elements of winter to slip from her control, and how, after a few days, she regained her control and restored summer to our land. But even as our Queen struggled to regain control of her powers so that she could return to her rightful place here in Rosen, there were certain persons conspiring to ensure she would never regain her power and her place. Hans Westergaard, sometime Prince of the Southern Isles," Mistress Swenhaugen nodded toward him, "was chief among those people.

"What the Crown attempts to prove today is not complex, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. We will prove to you that Master Westergaard came to Arendelle with nothing less than treason in his heart. As thirteenth in line to the throne of his own kingdom, he would have had no chance to inherit there. So he set his sights on Arendelle, intending to marry into our royal house.

"Now, you might be thinking, 'If a young man attempting to marry his way into a better position is treason, then half the young men of the world must be traitors!' And you would have a point. However, Master Westergaard's plans did not stop at marriage. After he set his sights on Princess Anna, he determined to marry her and to do away with Queen Elsa at a later date. Needless to say, any attempt on a crowned monarch's life is the very definition of treason, to say nothing of attempted murder.

"Yet the sudden winter we experienced last summer wreaked havoc with Master Westergaard's plans. No matter, he devised new ones. Princess Anna immediately left the city in search of the Queen. Once she was gone, Master Westergaard put his plot in motion. He attempted to curry favor in the city by organizing the citizens to provision themselves against the winter. He handed out blankets, provided hot glogg, etc., etc. All the while, you will see, he was biding his time. When Princess Anna's horse came back without her, he saw his chance. He organized a 'rescue' party for the Princess that did nothing of the sort. Instead he tracked down the Queen and led his party to attack her in the home she had created for herself on the North Mountain. When two men sent by the Duke of Weselton attempted to murder the Queen in cold blood, Master Westergaard not only saved their lives, he allowed them to disable the Queen so that she could be brought back to the city against her will. Then he locked her up in Rosen's prison."

Mistress Swenhaugen took a deep breath. "We can only guess what Master Westergaard's plans were at that point. What we can know are his actions. He stalled for time until Princess Anna was brought back to the castle, mortally wounded and in desperate need of care she assumed only he could give. Master Westergaard did not give her this care. Instead he cut Princess Anna off from all sources of heat and light, broke her spirit, and – I am sorry if this is upsetting to you – left her to die."

There were a few gasps from the courtroom. However, Mistress Swenhaugen did not let them slow her down.

"His actions from that point were even more despicable. With Princess Anna deathly ill and the Queen locked up, he attempted to seize the throne. Seeking to establish a power base, he lied to the people, telling them that Princess Anna was dead and that he had wed her in the moments before her death. Claiming that this made him king, his first royal pronouncement was to sentence the Queen to death."

More gasps.

"The gods had our Queen under their protection: she was able to escape her prison cell and attempt to flee. Master Westergaard followed her. When he tracked her down, he pretended to still be her friend, the man who loved her sister. This was a ruse to get her to let her guard down. When the Queen seemed disposed to listen to him, Master Westergaard lied to her as well. He told her that Princess Anna was dead, slain by the Queen's powers. The Queen was overcome with grief, and as she was distracted, Master Westergaard prepared to kill her. The only thing that saved our Queen was Princess Anna. She, too, had escaped from the prison Master Westergaard put her in. She threw herself between Master Westergaard's blade and the Queen. The magical curse that had hurt her claimed her in that moment. That, coupled with Princess Anna's self-sacrificial love, is what ultimately saved the lives of our Queen and Princess – but you will hear more about that later.

"Now, you are probably thinking, 'How on earth is the Crown going to prove this wild and almost unbelievable story?' We would not ask you to believe this if we did not have ample evidence, although our case does not admit of much physical evidence. We have Master Westergaard's sword, shattered to pieces from when he hit Princess Anna with it. We can show you the manacles he had forged for the Queen and the record-books in the prison. But there is little else. Master Westergaard was clever; he kept his own counsel, and there are no incriminating notes or papers we can show you.

"But we do have witnesses. We have the guards who accompanied Master Westergaard to the Queen's shelter. We have servants in the castle and guards who heard Master Westergaard's lies and his orders. We have men and women who were standing on high balconies throughout the city and who watched how Master Westergaard menaced the Queen and attempted to murder her. Most importantly, we have three people who were close at hand and saw the most treasonable of Master Westergaard's actions.

"The first of these witnesses is Master Kristoff Bjorgman. He assisted Princess Anna in her quest to find the Queen. He brought her back to the city to be saved (or so he thought) by Master Westergaard. When he realized this was unlikely to occur, he came back and attempted to rescue her. He saw Master Westergaard attempt to strike the Queen and hit the Princess instead.

"The second of these witnesses is Princess Anna." Mistress Swenhaugen paused only long enough to let the court gasp. "She will tell the court what Master Westergaard told her of his plots, and of course she will share what he did to her. She will also lend a corroborating statement about what happened out on the ice.

"And the last of these all-important three witnesses," Elsa thought she saw Mistress Swenhaugen smile for the first time since she had begun her speech, "is the Queen herself."

The court didn't just gasp, or buzz. It exploded into barely-hushed activity. Madam Voll had to bang her gavel three times to get anyone's attention. "Order! Order in the court!"

The court came to order. Madam Voll turned to Mistress Swenhaugen. "Prosecutor, do you have anything further to say?"

"Not at this time, Your Honor."

"Very well. Master Oveson?"

Hans's lawyer looked up. He was not the sort of man you would notice immediately. Of average height and slender, he carried himself most of the time in the manner of a harried and overworked clerk – until he began to speak in court, or began to question a witness.

He did not work his magic immediately. "Your Honor, with your permission, I should like to give my opening statement to the jury after the prosecution has made its case."

"As you please. Mistress Swenhaugen?"

Mistress Swenhaugen had barely had a chance to sit down before she stood. "Thank you, Your Honor. The prosecution would like to begin by calling Master Kristoff Bjorgman to the stand."

Elsa gulped, leaning a little forward in spite of herself. When Kristoff finally entered, which seemed to take an age, she could only see him from the back. He still looked uncomfortable in his suit, twitching and swallowing as if it was too small for him and itchy besides. What a contrast he made to Hans.

_Kristoff has a good heart. With any luck, that's all the jury will see._

He was swiftly led to the witness's box and sworn in. He still looked nervous. But Mistress Swenhaugen started to ask her questions, and Kristoff seemed to calm a little bit.

Mistress Swenhaugen was nothing if not organized. Once she had introduced the jury to Kristoff, she led him through what he had seen on his adventure. He told about meeting Anna in Wandering Oaken's Trading Post and their trip to Elsa's ice palace. He couldn't say much about what had happened inside, since he hadn't seen it, but he could describe Anna's injury and the form it took. He didn't say much about the trolls – they had all decided that would be much better if it remained a secret – but he was able to explain he had friends who had diagnosed Anna's condition and told him that only an act of true love would be able to save her. He told about rushing her back to the castle, then realizing that she was still in danger. He ran back to the city – and, well, as far as Elsa was concerned, the rest was history.

She wondered how the jury was taking it. Would they be swept away by the story? Would they be convinced by Kristoff's spare, if somewhat nervous, retelling? Or would they doubt that the fidgety, obviously uncomfortable young man before them was telling the truth?

Soon Mistress Swenhaugen finished up her questioning, and Kristoff was left to Master Oveson's tender mercies. Elsa was sure she could hear Kristoff gulp as the defense lawyer stood up.

Master Oveson didn't say anything at first. He paced back and forth, watching Kristoff. If that display was meant to set Kristoff on edge, it worked. He shifted and watched Master Oveson like a helpless fawn might watch a wolf.

"So … Master Bjorgman," Master Oveson started. "What was that title of yours again? Royal … Ice Master and Deliverer, was it?"

Mistress Swenhaugen was half out of her chair, as if she would object, but she seemingly thought better of it and sat back down.

"Yes, sir," replied Kristoff. He glanced at Madam Voll, as if he was wondering if he should say more. Madam Voll faintly shook her head.

"Interesting. Now, I'm worked, shall we say, _around_ the government for many years … I don't remember that being an official position. Is it a new creation?"

Kristoff gulped. "Yes."

"Are you the first to hold it?"

"Yes."

"Interesting. Interesting. And could you explain to me why a Queen who can create fantastic palaces out of ice with her bare hands and a bit of ingenuity should need to have a 'Royal Ice Master and Deliverer' on her staff?"

Mistress Swenhaugen smoothly rose. "Objection, Your Honor. The question calls for speculation."

"Withdrawn," replied Master Oveson before Madam Voll could rule on the matter. "Master Bjorgman, could you explain to the court the … how shall I say this … the job description of your current position?"

"Oh. Um …" Kristoff swallowed. "Well … I harvest ice. Sir. I deliver it through the city, including," he glared, "to the royal kitchens, because while E—the Queen _can_ make ice, she's generally too busy running the country to keep the kitchens stocked."

"I see. And is that all you do?"

"Right now, sir, yes. But the Queen has talked about getting an ice export business off the ground. We're going to start in the spring."

Kristoff looked nervously up to the royal box as he said this. Elsa couldn't be sure if this was proper, but she smiled and nodded all the same.

"I see. I see. And what are the salary and benefits of your current position?"

"I—um, well, I get a salary of thirty marks a month, plus room and board at the castle and stabling for Sven – um, my reindeer."

"Is that all? Is there not a sleigh involved?" Master Oveson asked.

"Um, well, I _did_ get a sled – but that was because my old one got wrecked while I was helping Princess Anna. She bought me the new one."

"I see. I see. Tell me, Master Bjorgman, is the compensation you are earning now in any way comparable to that you earned while working as an ice harvester for yourself?"

Kristoff blinked. "I—I'm sorry? I'm not sure what you're asking. Sir." Elsa squeezed the snowball harder as she watched Kristoff flush and shift uncomfortably.

"Are you earning more or less than you did before the events of six months ago?"

"Oh. Um, more. A lot more, to be honest."

"And the Queen is your sole supervisor? You serve at her pleasure, and she could dismiss you for any reason?"

"I—I guess so. But she's not like that."

"How fortunate for you." Elsa couldn't see his face, but she could imagine Master Oveson's thin-lipped, lizard-like smile. "Very well. But if Her Majesty asked you for a favor, would you do it?"

Kristoff blinked. "Of course I would."

"Even if it were illegal?"

There was a faint gasp that rippled through the courtroom. Kristoff took a deep breath. "If the Queen asks you to do something, how can it be illegal?"

Madam Voll rapped her gavel once. "Answer the question, Master Bjorgman."

"Er – um – I guess," Kristoff gulped, "I guess if Queen Elsa asked something like that, she'd have to have a really good reason for it – so yes, I probably would. But she hasn't asked me anything like that!"

"So you say. So you say." Master Oveson shook his head. "Very well, enough of that. Master Bjorgman, there are rumors swirling through the city that you are currently the beau of Princess Anna. Forgive an old man who is behind the times – are those rumors true?"

Kristoff blushed to the tips of his ears. "Y-yes."

"I see. Would you perjure yourself for her?"

Kristoff jumped. "What?"

"Would you lie under oath for her, if she asked you to?"

"She wouldn't."

"But if she did—"

"She. Wouldn't."

"Master Bjorgman, you must answer the question," Madam Voll interrupted. "If Princess Anna asked you to lie under oath for her, would you do it? Yes or no?"

Elsa watched as Kristoff ground his teeth. Then, he admitted, "Yes."

"Thank you very much, Master Bjorgman, that was all I wanted. Ah-ah! I apologize, I have still more questions for you." He straightened his cravat. "Now, Master Bjorgman, how do you feel about my client, Hans of the Southern Isles?"

Kristoff allowed himself to glance once at Hans. "Not … particularly well."

"Can you elaborate, Master Bjorgman?"

Elsa wondered if steam might begin to come out of Kristoff's ears. "He tried to kill Anna's sis—Queen Elsa. He tried to kill _Anna_. I—_I_ would have punched him into the fjord if Anna hadn't beaten me to it."

Somewhat to Elsa's surprise, chuckles and laughs came from the courtroom. Kristoff looked just as startled as Elsa felt. Madam Voll had to rap her gavel once more to get order.

Master Oveson continued as soon as the laughter died away. "Are you jealous of Hans of the Southern Isles, Master Bjorgman?"

"What? _Jealous_?" Kristoff asked.

"No one would blame you if you were," Master Oveson went on. "He is – or was – a Prince. While I cannot be a judge of these things myself, I am given to understand that ladies find his appearance pleasing. And everyone knows that he was engaged to Princess Anna, the woman you are now courting, for a time. So, Master Bjorgman, are you jealous?"

"No," Kristoff replied.

"No? Are you sure? Need I repeat—"

"Your Honor." That was Mistress Swenhaugen, standing up. "I must object. Master Oveson's question has been asked and answered."

"Sustained," Madam Voll replied. "Next question, Master Oveson."

Master Oveson seemed to study Kristoff for a long moment. Kristoff fidgeted under his gaze. "Why aren't you jealous, Master Bjorgman?"

Kristoff blinked. "Because …"

He stared for a long moment at Hans, and then he turned back to Master Oveson. "Fine. He's good looking. He used to be a prince. He's got tons of money, and yes, he was engaged to Anna for a while. But he's no better than a murderer, and he used Anna and tossed her to the side when he thought she couldn't help him. Maybe I'm just an ice harvester who—who got incredibly lucky, but you know what? I'd never treat Anna the way he treated her. I'd never treat anyone like that. So maybe he's my social better, but I don't think I'm bragging when I say I'm a better person."

There was another gasp and set of buzzing. Kristoff swallowed and tried to stare down the whisperers.

Master Oveson watched Kristoff for a long moment. He walked back to his table and flipped through his notes. Then he looked up.

"No further questions."

"Very well," replied Madam Voll. "Master Bjorgman, the court thanks you for your testimony. You are free to go."

Kristoff looked relieved to be given the chance to escape and hurriedly started to walk away.

"Next witness, Mistress Swenhaugen?"

"Thank you, Your Honor. The prosecution calls Princess Anna of Arendelle to the stand."

Elsa's stomach plunged and so did the temperature. _Oh, gods; oh, gods …_ She gulped and started to squeeze her little snowball. It was all she could do to take deep breaths and not panic.

_She will be fine. She's better at this sort of thing than you are. She'll see Master Oveson as a challenge, and she'll win. She's come out victorious against longer odds._

_If Anna is good at anything, she's good at being convincing._

Elsa leaned back against the chair stroking the armrest with one finger. A thin sheet of ice grew underneath.

Anna entered the courtroom shortly after Kristoff had left it. Elsa tried to see her as the jury would. Her gown was spring green with crocuses embroidered on it in black thread. The gown had the sloping shoulders so popular now, but Anna was wearing a black fichu that covered her skin. It looked both modest and practical and left the viewer guessing as to which was uppermost in Anna's mind. Her hair had been twisted into a simple knot, save for a potion that had been braided and crossed over the crown of her head like a headband.

She was sworn in, and Mistress Swenhaugen began to ask her questions. Anna's testimony was longer than Kristoff's, because she had more to tell. She had to explain first how Hans had met her, and how he had – not _seduced_ her, _seduced_ was too loaded a word to use around a Princess – but how he had charmed and flattered her and gotten her to agree to an engagement. Then she had to tell how Elsa had reacted to the news, and how she had decided to go after Elsa while leaving Hans in charge.

Kristoff came into the royal box while she was explaining this and took a seat next to Elsa.

Anna's testimony regarding what had happened at the ice palace was also far more detailed than Kristoff's. She had to explain how she had come by her injury. She also had to tell what had happened when she finally made her way back to the city and to Hans.

Elsa found herself holding her breath again when Anna described how Hans had led her on, sent everyone out of the room, and finally revealed his whole plan to her while he put out the fire and snuffed out the candle. Kristoff, meanwhile, sat stiffly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down and his hands balled into what seemed to be fists.

But what Elsa felt and what Kristoff felt wasn't important. _This_ was the testimony that would make or break the trial. If the jury was convinced – if they could not reasonably doubt that what Anna said was true – then they would have no choice but to vote Hans guilty on the treason charge. If they didn't …

Well, the trial could go either way.

Once that was done, there was little else to describe other than how Anna had run onto the ice, trying to find Kristoff and instead finding Elsa and Hans. Elsa had to close her eyes as Anna described what happened next. It was only six months of long practice that kept the guilt from overwhelming her completely.

When that part of the story was done, Mistress Swenhaugen quickly wrapped up the questioning. She turned to Master Oveson. "Your witness."

"Thank you, Mistress Swenhaugen." Master Oveson stood. He stroked his pointed chin, surveying Anna with narrowed eyes. Anna raised one eyebrow and tilted her head to one side. Her color was up and so was the fire in her.

"Princess Anna," Master Oveson began, "I fear very much that I find that there are portions of your story that leave me confused. I am sure the jury is confused as well. So … let us begin … is it your opinion that Hans of the Southern Isles is the worst kind of traitor? A social chameleon, mirroring the people he is with, manipulative and cruel, and perhaps even … a seducer?"

"He didn't seduce _me_ if that's what you're asking," Anna replied, "but yes, I do think that Hans is a …" She glared at him. "Terrible person."

_Brava, Anna!_ That would probably go over with the jury much better than what Anna was actually thinking.

"Yet you left him in charge of Arendelle, not someone with more experience in the role, such as, say, Chancellor Tennfjord or another member of the Queen's Council. May I ask why you did that?"

"He—he had me fooled," Anna admitted, her cheeks flushing bright red. "He had _everybody_ fooled. He—he acted perfect and sincere, but he was lying the entire time."

"I see. I see. Princess Anna, would you rate your decision to leave Hans of the Southern Isles in charge while you were seeking the Queen a good one?"

"What? Of course not!"

"Of course not—how interesting. What of your decision to enter into an engagement without your sister, the Queen's, permission? Was that a good decision?"

Anna swallowed. "No."

"And your decision to seek the Queen in the first place, alone and without even any supplies or provisions?"

Even from this distance Elsa could see that Anna was grinding her teeth. But her answer was perhaps not what Master Oveson was expecting. "Maybe I—I should have thought through _how_ I did it. Maybe I should have gotten some supplies and maybe asked someone to come with me. But I don't regret going after El—the Queen. I don't think it was a bad decision at all. I upset her in the first place, so it was my responsibility, and nobody else was going to try to be … gentle with her."

"It was a decision that nearly got you killed, Princess Anna," replied Master Oveson. "Do you still think it a good one, in that light?"

"You take risks when you care about someone," Anna fired back.

Master Oveson's eyebrows rose. "Indeed … indeed. Very well. I should like to ask you more details about your injury, if I may. How, precisely, did you come to be injured?"

Anna ground her teeth. "I—I told El—the Queen what was happening in Arendelle. She didn't even know that her winter had spread over the kingdom!" Anna added to the jury. "And she—well, she panicked. She said that she didn't know how to stop the winter, and, well, things just got worse after that. I was trying to encourage her, but it was almost like – she couldn't hear me. I could see she was upset, but I kept pushing, until … her power just sort burst out of her, in all directions at once. She wasn't even looking at me! But some of it hit me, and …" Anna rubbed her chest. "It hit my heart."

"Are you upset with the Queen your sister about this? She did nearly kill you," Master Oveson pressed.

"No. It was an accident, and she didn't mean to do it. Elsa would never hurt me on purpose."

"Never hurt you on purpose. It is interesting that you say that, Princess Anna. Now, you testified that you heard from certain – trusted sources that your injury could only be cured by 'an act of true love.' What did you think would be the cure to your injury?"

"True love's kiss," Anna admitted, flushing.

"From whom?"

"… Hans."

"I see. Now, were you told of any other potential cures for your injury?"

"No."

"So if Hans of the Southern Isles could not supply this act of true love for you, he could do nothing to ultimately help you?"

Anna ground her teeth. "… No."

"Did that make you angry?"

Anna blinked. "What?"

"This young man, whom you entrusted with your heart, your hand, and even your kingdom – to whom you gave _everything_ that was within your heart – when you needed him, when your life was literally dep—"

"Your Honor, objection!" Mistress Swenhaugen stood up. "The question is argumentative."

"Sustained. Master Oveson, please ask your question and refrain from telling the jury a story."

Master Oveson only nodded. "Were you angry at Hans of the Southern Isles, Your Highness, because he could not help you?"

"Of course I'm angry! He played me for a fool, he tried—"

"That will be sufficient, Your Highness," Master Oveson interrupted.

Elsa watched as Anna's hands clenched on the rail separating her from Master Oveson. "Calm down, feistypants," Kristoff whispered.

"Now—you were angry. Would you want revenge on Hans of the Southern Isles?"

"I did. But punching—"

"Thank you, Your Highness, that was all I needed."

If Anna didn't leap over that railing and slug Master Oveson into the fjord, Elsa would count it as a minor miracle.

"Now, Your Highness, let me ask you something. Is it possible that perhaps Hans of the Southern Isles did kiss you?"

"No!"

"Are you certain? Wouldn't it be natural if he were to kiss you, and if the kiss were not to work, that you would be angry?"

"He didn't kiss me!"

"Now, Your Highness, I find that very difficult to believe. If Hans of the Southern Isles is the blackguard you clearly believe him to be, why not kiss you? Why not pretend to mourn that your love was not strong enough? Why not—"

"Because he's worse!" Anna shouted. "He's worse than what I said! He's a traitor, yes, and he tried to kill Elsa and me, and he – he could have just kissed me, he could have made up some excuse, he could have done _anything_, but you know what he did? You know what he said? '_Oh, Anna, if only there was someone out there who loved you_!'"

The court gasped. Kristoff gasped. Elsa flew out of the chair and to the railing that separated her from the courtroom.

It iced over under her touch.

Anna's eyes had gone wide and she slapped her hand over her mouth. She stared up at the royal box, where Elsa was standing and where Kristoff had joined her.

A sidelong glance at Kristoff showed that he looked just as shocked as Elsa felt.

"Are—are you saying, Your Highness," Master Oveson asked, "that Hans of the Southern Isles said this to you?"

Anna gulped. Her eyes didn't leave the royal box. "Yes," she murmured.

"You did not mention this in your earlier testimony. Why not?" asked Master Oveson.

Anna turned to him. Something like contempt blazed in her eyes. "I hadn't told anyone until now. And before you ask why," she snapped, "ask yourself if _you_ would want to share the most humiliating moment of your life to everyone in Arendelle and beyond!"

_Oh, gods, Anna!_

If Master Oveson had a reply, Elsa didn't hear it. She turned away from the balcony of the royal box and hurried for the exit. Kristoff was practically on her heels, and the guards were right behind.

The balcony had already thawed before she left the box.

_Anna!_ Elsa's hands trembled as she held her skirts up. She was probably going to trip on them as she jogged down the stairs and she found it difficult to care. _How could he say that—you can't believe that—you have always been loved!_

It was her fault that Anna believed him, and Elsa knew it, but she didn't have time for guilt. If she'd been a better big sister …

But she hadn't been, and she couldn't compound the error by withdrawing now. She had to be the big sister Anna needed _today_.

Elsa dashed down the hall to the double doors that led to the courtroom proper. The guards at them gasped when they saw her. But they saw that she wasn't slowing (and maybe they were a little convinced by the huge form of Kristoff behind her), and they hurried to throw the doors open.

Elsa ran into the courtroom and down the aisle that led to the witness box and the judge's seat and everything else.

Anna was already walking down it. She had her head bowed and she was drawing her fichu closer around her. But when she heard the gasping, she looked up.

"Elsa!"

"Anna!"

Elsa wasn't sure who ran faster, but she knew she couldn't stop running until her little sister had collided with her. Elsa wrapped her arms around her, her eyes squeezed shut, because if she opened them, she knew she'd start crying.

Anna hugged her just as tightly.

"Order! Order in the court! Order in the—blast, do I have to start handing out citations for contempt?"

Elsa wasn't sure who Madam Voll was talking to, and she didn't care. She took a shuddering breath and held Anna at an arm's length. "_You are loved_. Never, _never_ doubt that."

Anna smiled. "I don't. Not anymore."

Elsa felt herself start to melt inside. But despite herself, Madam Voll's pounding gavel got her attention. She took a deep breath and handed Anna off to Kristoff. Kristoff pulled her into a hug every bit as tight as Elsa's.

"Order!"

"Kristoff," Elsa murmured. Kristoff looked up. "Take her somewhere. Someplace she can catch her breath."

He glanced between Anna and Elsa and slowly nodded. "I'll take her to Jorgen's."

Anna looked up. "But Elsa," she said just as softly, "you're next."

"That's not important."

"Ahem!" Madam Voll rapped twice with her gavel. "Mistress Swenhaugen, your next witness?"

Mistress Swenhaugen was looking at Elsa, Anna and Kristoff, clearly unsure.

"Go," Elsa murmured to Anna and Kristoff. "I'll be fine." _I'll be more fine knowing you're being taken care of._

Kristoff nodded, and Anna allowed him to lead her away. "We'll get you some white chocolate!" Anna whispered over her shoulder.

Elsa allowed herself one smile. Then she turned back to Mistress Swenhaugen and nodded.

"The prosecution," Mistress Swenhaugen coughed and swallowed, "calls Queen Elsa of Arendelle to the stand."

Elsa had planned to make a dignified entrance into the courtroom, a slow, stately walk worthy of a Queen. It was a little late for that now. But she could square her shoulders, tilt her chin up, and walk like a lady until she got to the witness box. Once there, she could stand still and straight while she was sworn in, speaking in a clear, even voice and focusing completely on the bailiff before her.

The jury had a good view of her, but Elsa refused to look at the jury – at least, not until the questioning started. She allowed them to take her in. She had dressed as the Queen of Arendelle today – a gown in Arendelle's royal color of purple, trimmed in green and with a green fichu to match. She had debated doing her hair the way her mother used to do it, but decided that was too similar to the style she had worn to her coronation, which was not something she wanted to remind the jury of any more than absolutely necessary. Instead Marte had done her hair in braided coils. Save for her ring of state and small gold studs in her ears, the only jewelry Elsa wore was the Cross of Arendelle, handed down from monarch to monarch since time immemorial. (Her father had worn a replica on his last fateful trip.)

Elsa sat as soon as she was sworn in. She smoothed her skirt and turned her gaze to Mistress Swenhaugen, schooling her expression into one of complete attention.

Mistress Swenhaugen coughed. "Your Majesty, could you please state your name and date of birth for the record?"

And so the questioning began.

Somewhat to her surprise, the questioning was smooth and almost easy. She ought to have been a tangle of nerves, watching Kristoff and Anna's treatment at the hands of Master Oveson and knowing she was next. She ought to have still been furious, thinking of what Hans had said to Anna when she was at her most vulnerable. Maybe somewhere she still was. But thirteen years of "conceal, don't feel" had left their mark, and every now and then that emotional training came in handy.

Mistress Swenhaugen started by having Elsa explain her powers, how old she had been when she discovered them, and how her family had attempted to control them. That led naturally enough into her relationship with Anna, which in turn led to the coronation … and everything after.

Through it all, Elsa kept her back straight and her head high. She was careful to address the jury when she replied, coming face to face with them for the first time.

Both men and women could serve on juries in Arendelle; Mistress Swenhaugen and Master Oveson between them had come up with a jury that was exactly split between men and women. Judging by their clothing, they were from all segments of society. The youngest was a woman, and she was dressed as a society debutante. The eldest was an elder man in what was clearly his Sunday best: humble, but in good condition and scrupulously clean. The rest of the jury ran the gamut of young and old, rich and poor, and everything in between.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, that will be all," said Mistress Swenhaugen, wrapping up. "Master Oveson, your witness."

Elsa turned to the defense lawyer and allowed herself to truly look at him for the first time since her testimony began.

His slate gray eyes were staring directly into hers, and he had his fingers steepled before him, fingers tapping his crooked nose. When he removed his hand, Elsa could see that he kept a small, pencil-thin mustache, as her father had. The style had gone out of fashion shortly after her father's death, but apparently Master Oveson was a creature of habit.

"Is there a precedent," he asked, "for the monarch to participate directly in a trial – even a trial of a traitor?"

Before Mistress Swenhaugen could object, Elsa answered. "No, I do not believe that there is."

"Yet here you are, on the stand, telling your … _side_ of the story. How very curious." Master Oveson stood up and started to cross closer to her. "Is it a key objective of Your Majesty's government to secure a guilty verdict in this case?"

Elsa hesitated, and she kicked herself for it, but it was hard to do anything else when she was trying to juggle so many competing priorities in her mind. In the end she settled for the truth, plain and unvarnished. "Yes, it is."

By the sudden murmuring that broke out, Elsa wondered if that had been a mistake. "So you admit it!" Master Oveson replied. "Why is it such a key objective?"

"Master Westergaard is a traitor of the worst kind," Elsa replied. "He set foot in Arendelle intending to usurp the throne with a combination of marriage, murder, and goodness only knows what else. He left my sister to die and attempted to kill me. If the government were to desire anything other than a guilty verdict, it should itself be guilty of a gross dereliction of duty."

"Then why wait six months?" asked Master Oveson. "Why not clap Hans of the Southern Isles in irons and try him directly after his 'crimes'?"

Elsa's hands tightened against each other. "At the time of his crime, Master Westergaard was a Prince of the Southern Isles, as well as the Southern Isles' official representative at my coronation. As such, he had diplomatic immunity. To attempt to try him would be an insult to the Southern Isles and might have been cause for war."

"But you just said," Master Oveson replied, smiling a little, "that to do anything other than to try him would be a gross dereliction of duty. So – did your government knowingly neglect its duty?"

_No, that is _not_ what I said,_ thought Elsa, but she knew better than to rise to the bait. "No, it most certainly did not." She turned to the jury.

Twelve confused faces stared back at her. For a moment Elsa's throat went dry. Then she forced herself to swallow, to sit up straight, and to make eye contact with each jury member in turn.

"My father, the late King Agdar, taught me a lesson about being Queen at a very young age. He told me that there would be no easy decisions. Easy decisions do not come to the Queen's desk; they are made by people with less authority. He warned me that when I was Queen, much of the time what I would be doing would be weighing options, deciding amongst competing priorities, and trying to determine which course of action would do the most good, or failing that, the least harm.

"Now, we come to the case of Master Westergaard. My government faced two competing priorities. The first was the priority to punish treason and ensure that it did not happen again. The second was the priority to avoid inciting a war so soon after the shocking events following my coronation. We attempted to thread this needle by banishing Master Westergaard back to the Southern Isles, complete with a full report of what had transpired. If he was gone, he could not repeat his treason, and by sending him back to the Southern Isles unharmed, we avoided insulting one of Arendelle's historic allies. We did our duty to lead the people of Arendelle as we best knew how."

She turned back to Master Oveson. "Does that answer your question, sir?"

There was a sudden titter in the courtroom. Elsa almost jumped. Why did people keep laughing? What was so funny?

"Oh, very well, thank you," replied Master Oveson. "However, since Hans of the Southern Isles was – and indeed still is – a foreign national at the time of his alleged crimes, how can he possibly be a traitor?"

"If the Southern Isles were an enemy of Arendelle, he would not be," Elsa replied. "However, as I'm sure you know, Master Oveson, a foreign national from a nation allied with Arendelle can be considered a traitor. There is no evidence to suggest that Master Westergaard was acting on the orders of his government – indeed, his presence here today would tend to suggest otherwise – unless you plan to present some?"

A lesser lawyer might have scowled and snapped that _he_ was asking the questions. Master Oveson only smiled. "All in good time, Your Majesty. All in good time. So, if you had already threaded the needle by sending Hans of the Southern Isles back to his home, why ask for him back?"

"Objection!" called Mistress Swenhaugen. "Your Honor, the question assumes facts not in evidence."

Elsa didn't dare to look up at Madam Voll. "Sustained," said the judge, and Elsa almost sighed in relief.

"Very well," replied Master Oveson, "Your Majesty, why is Hans of the Southern Isles on trial now?"

"His brother, King Albin of the Southern Isles, sent him back to Arendelle shortly before Yule. I cannot comment as to his motives, having no direct knowledge of them myself. With Master Westergaard back in the country, my government was forced to decide whether to dredge up the events of last summer or whether to allow treason to go unpunished. We decided upon the former, and here we are."

"I see. Well, now that we have all seen how the sausage of governance is made, I should like to change the subject. We have heard from both you and Princess Anna regarding the nature of the injury she sustained, the one that nearly cost her her life. Would it be correct to say that you caused that injury?"

Elsa took a deep breath, but she nodded. "That is correct."

"Then, Your Majesty, why are _you_ not on trial for treason and attempted murder?"

The gasp ringing through the courtroom didn't even made Elsa blink. Instead, she only smiled, very faintly. "Because of _Carlsen vs. Rex_."

For a moment she had the pleasure of seeing Master Oveson's eyes go wide. "That is a rather … obscure case, Your Majesty. Would you kindly explain it to the jury, and explain how it informed your reasoning?"

"Certainly." Elsa turned back to the jury. "In the year 1448, King Eirik III was attending a review of the troops, complete with an archery contest. One soldier, a young man named Ingolf Carlsen, was extremely nervous due to the presence of the King. While the King was inspecting the targets, he accidentally loosed his arrow too soon, hit the King, and killed him."

Even though these events had happened almost four hundred years previously, plenty of the spectators in the court gasped, as did more than a few members of the jury.

"He was immediately seized and imprisoned. However, the new King – King Birger I – was a wise man. Instead of executing Carlsen out of hand, he had him put on trial. He ordered that the jury was to be impartial, and he even secretly paid for the best lawyer in Rosen at the time to act as young Carlsen's defense lawyer. The trial, I am told, was quite the sensation, as were the jury's eventual findings – to wit, that young Carlsen was not guilty of both treason and murder."

More gasps.

"For, you see, as the jury found, to be guilty of either treason or murder requires ill _intent_. Accidents happen, even terrible accidents that cause the deaths of kings. Men – and women – who unfortunately cause accidents, meaning no harm and not doing anything otherwise illegal, are neither traitors nor murderers, and they should not be punished as such.

"Now we turn to my … unfortunate injury of my sister, Princess Anna." Elsa took a deep breath. "I—I never intended to harm Princess Anna. I …"

Elsa closed her eyes and tried to force the emotions that threatened to rise up and choke her back down again. "I think it is safe to say that my conduct for many years – including running away after my coronation – was founded on the desire to _not hurt Anna_. When I—when I lost control—nothing could have been further from my intent. So … I cannot, by that logic, be guilty of either treason or attempted murder."

She swallowed and turned back to Master Oveson. "Did I leave anything unexplained, sir? Would you like me to elaborate further?"

Master Oveson seemed to have not moved since Elsa began her explanation. "You are quite a gifted student of the law, Your Majesty. I have argued against attorneys who could not have produced an explanation of the case as succinct and clear as that – if they had even heard of it in the first place."

Elsa nodded in receipt of the compliment. "I had an excellent teacher." She took a deep breath and looked up. "However, I think Mistress Swenhaugen shall be shouting objections at both of us if we do not return to the task at hand, sir."

This time, she wasn't surprised when the chuckles rose up. She was a little surprised by how Master Oveson's eyes were narrowed at her, his lips pursed, one hand stroking his pointed chin.

He briskly nodded and said only one thing. "No further questions."

And just like that, Elsa was free to go.

* * *

**I hope that was worth the wait! And thank you so much to my kind reviewers, Jacob Flores, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, RJCA27, CrunchDeNumbers, and two newbies, Ehecatl and WinterKnight2104.**

**You know the drill by now. Review, favorite, follow – I love it all! **

**Thanks for reading!**


	15. One with the Wind and Sky

**WinterKnight2104, you asked when Nick & Elsa were going to proceed with where they had left off. All I can say is … keep reading. It's coming, maybe not in this chapter, but it's coming. :)**

* * *

Chapter 15: One with the Wind and Sky

Elsa could not completely clear her schedule for the sake of one trial, even Hans's trial. She could manage to squeeze in a few hours every day, but that was it. Still, what she could squeeze in, she did.

Of what she saw, and the summaries she read in the papers, nothing was quite as sensational as her, Anna's, and Kristoff's testimonies. But she had to give Mistress Swenhaugen credit. If she didn't put on a show, she assembled her arguments with a force that was practically unstoppable. She showed the blasted manacles, the prisoner manifest and Hans's shattered sword. Witness after witness testified of Hans's treason. They told how Hans had declared Anna dead and sentenced Elsa to death for the "murder." They told of watching from roofs, the castle walls, and balconies as Hans menaced Elsa and Anna threw herself between Hans and Elsa. They told how Anna had frozen.

But for every piece of evidence that Mistress Swenhaugen marshalled, Master Oveson had a counterargument. He dismissed the manacles and the prisoner manifest, saying that those facts were not in dispute and that all would be explained at a later time. He harshly questioned every witness who appeared. He tried to make their testimony suspect by virtue of the fact that they worked for the Crown (in the case of the guards at the palace and prison) or even that they were citizens of Arendelle (everyone else).

Kristoff's one inopportune question – _"If the Queen asks you to do something, how can it be illegal?" _– came back to haunt them time and time again. Master Oveson kept asking virtually every witness if they would lie under oath if asked to by the Queen. Sometimes the witnesses made Kristoff's suggestion themselves. Sometimes Master Oveson led them to it. But that same sentence, or close to it, came tumbling out of the mouths of more witnesses than Elsa cared to count.

She couldn't tell if the trial was going well or badly. She couldn't ask Madam Voll about it, for all of Madam Voll's working hours were taken up by the trial, and even if they hadn't been, Elsa doubted she have spoken of it. Elsa could have asked Mistress Swenhaugen, but she was too nervous about hearing that things were going badly to think the risk worth taking to find out if they were going well.

And in the midst of this the work of the government went on. Elsa accepted petitions, met with the Council, participated in the ongoing negotiations with Weselton, made decisions. She was the Queen.

To make matters worse, there was a storm coming on. Elsa could feel it in the tingle in the air, the scent of snow carried on the ocean breezes. One side effect of her powers was that she always knew when snow or other wintery weather was coming, everything from the slowest, gentlest flurry to a howling blizzard. This storm was shaping up to be one of the latter sort. Elsa couldn't stop such storms, but she could slow them down, suck some of the energy out of them, and let a storm that wasn't so bad hit Arendelle. She planned to do that with this storm, but it was still too far out to sea. If anything that set Elsa even more on edge. Sensing the storm but not being able to do anything about it was worse than having an itch she couldn't scratch.

All in all, she was quite glad when Saturday finally came.

She probably should have spent the day holed up in her study, but Elsa had spent far too many sleepless nights since the trial's beginning in that same place. The result was that she had actually made a rather surprising dent in the paperwork. There was always more where that came from, but she was entitled to take a day off. Or maybe, if she played her cards right, _two_ days.

So she sent word to Captain Olhouser that she was going to take a walk, alone (not counting her guard-shadow), in the foothills near the palace. It would be good, strenuous exercise; it would clear her head; and maybe having a vantage point in the foothills would get her a better sense of where the storm was coming from so she could start to soothe and calm it.

However, like all of the best-laid plans, her was destined to come to naught.

Elsa stepped out of the palace doors into the cold winter air. She had waited until well after dawn for her walk, because she was sure that the vein in Captain Olhouser's temple would have exploded had she suggested anything else. He had insisted that she take three guards with her, and Elsa hadn't argued. It was the easiest way to guarantee she would get her walk.

The courtyard was crowded even before she stepped out. Elsa had put on her plainest, most nondescript cloak, and she drew her hood up over her head. Even if she took the back way to the mountains (crossing the frozen fjord, made extra-frozen by her powers), she wanted to minimize the chances of her being recognized.

She hurried down the stairs, letting the sounds of the morning wash over her. There were some children playing in the eastern corner; Elsa could only pick out Olaf's voice above the fray, and she couldn't make out what he was saying. Cook was arguing with an errand boy about the latest delivery while three of Captain Olhouser's men inspected it. Several menservants were sweeping drifted snow out of the cloister walks. By the stables—

Elsa froze. There were two Weselton guards in their distinctive maroon cloaks. Elsa's heart leapt into her throat, and a sudden chill wind picked up. But that wasn't what made her freeze.

Nick was standing near the guards, next to the same blue roan Elsa had seen him with the morning Hans's trial had begun. One of the stable grooms – Soren Njalsen, if Elsa remembered correctly – had lifted one of the horse's hooves and was explaining something. Elsa watched Nick nod along.

Something, however, seemed to alert him to her presence. Maybe it was the wind, maybe it was just that preternatural sense one would sometimes get when being watched. Whatever it was, he looked up.

The weak light flashed over his spectacles, but there was no hiding the huge smile that lit his face. Elsa grinned too. "Qu—" he started to call.

Elsa hurriedly put a finger to her lips. Nick understood. With a quick look from side to side, Elsa hurried closer to him, the guards following.

"My lady," he said as soon as she came close enough for a conversation. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you, too, Ambassador."

They stood there for a moment, stupidly smiling at each other, before one of them – Elsa – thought of something to say. "So! Er …" She glanced at the horse, who was staring at her with no little curiosity. "Heading somewhere—special today?"

"No, nowhere in particular. Just a ride in the foothills on the other side of the city. There are some excellent trails there – but you'd know all about them."

"Oh, no," Elsa laughed a little, self-deprecatingly. "Not me. I haven't ridden since I was eight years old. Though—you should ask Anna about the trails sometime. She's an excellent horsewoman; she could probably show you the best ones."

Nick barely seemed to hear her talking about Anna. "Not since you were eight?"

In answer, Elsa merely held up her hands. Hers, she suspected, were the only ungloved hands in the courtyard … unless one were to count Olaf's.

"Oh," Nick murmured.

"But you have a lovely mount." Elsa hesitantly held out her hand to the horse. Sven had no problem with her petting him, but she bribed him with carrots all the time. Would this horse be the same, even without carrots?

The horse whickered and batted his head under Elsa's hand. She smiled and gently patted his nose. "What's his name?"

"Polaris." Polaris's ears flickered in Nick's direction. Nick patted the horse's neck. "He always steers me in the right direction."

Elsa chuckled. "And it's certainly easier to spell than Betelgeuse."

Nick grinned. "My father's stable master would have had a fit if I tried to name a horse Betelgeuse."

Elsa smiled as she continued to pet Polaris, who was practically preening under all of the attention. "He's a happy horse, isn't he?"

"He has good taste," Nick murmured, and something in the way he looked at her as he said that made Elsa blush.

"Would you like to—" Nick suddenly asked, then turned away, biting his lip. "No—no, sorry, it was a foolish question."

"What—what was?" Elsa asked.

Nick smiled and shook his head. "It was nothing. I was about to ask if you'd …" He glanced at the guards behind Elsa. "Like to come with me … but obviously if you've not ridden in years …"

"I …" Elsa bit her lip. Gods, it was tempting! Even if she wasn't sure she remembered which end of the horse she was supposed to hold on to. "You – Polaris looks like he wants a run. He wouldn't want to have to keep up with the slow pace of a beginning rider."

"Polaris wouldn't mind," Nick said with enough conviction to tell Elsa that he knew exactly to whom "Polaris" referred.

Elsa pursed her lips, her hands unconsciously twisting together.

A cough from one of her guards broke Elsa from her reverie. "Er, beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but some of the children are playing Monkey in the Middle with … the snowman."

Elsa turned to the guard. "That's quite all right. Olaf loves playing with the children. Even if he is the monkey more often than not."

The guard's face was perfectly wooden, but Nick's eyes went wide. "My lady, I don't think you understand. The children are playing Monkey in the Middle _with_ Olaf."

In case she didn't fully understand the meaning this time, a stray breeze brought Olaf's voice to her.

"BODY! BODY! This way, body! No—sorry, now I'm going the other way. Wheeee!"

Elsa smacked her forehead and slowly drew her hand over her face. When the last of her fingers had passed over her eyes, she found herself staring into the distinctly amused brown eyes of Polaris.

It was at that point she had an idea.

"Come with me," she murmured to Nick, "and bring Polaris." Without waiting for Nick to reply, she hurried across the courtyard, head high and hood pushed back.

"Children!" she called.

The children paused. But it was the poor boy with Olaf's head in his hands who froze, probably because Olaf cheerily greeted, "Oh, hi, Elsa! Have you ever played Monkey in the Middle?"

The kids all gasped and turned to face Elsa.

Elsa smiled. She remembered the look on Anna's face when she showed her the magic and the smile became genuine. "Would you like to see some magic?"

Wide eyes, huge smiles, then a chorus of, "Yeah! Yeah!"

"Yeth, pleathe, Queen Eltha!" lisped a very little girl with her hair in small blonde pigtails.

"Well, I'd love to show you some," Elsa replied, "but you have to put Olaf's head back on – _the right way round!_" Elsa coughed as the little boy just barely refrained from shoving Olaf's head on upside down and backwards. "Excuse me. Yes, put his head on the right way."

The little boy did so, and all of the children crowded closer to Elsa.

"Stand back, please," she said. "I don't want anyone getting … too close."

The children stepped back. Elsa took a deep breath and looked at the empty patch of ground before her.

The last time she'd done this … well, she didn't want to go to that place again. It wouldn't work for what she planned to create, anyway. But the power was still in her, wasn't it? She'd done it once unconsciously and once all-too-consciously. Surely she could do it a third time …

_Here goes nothing …_

She closed her eyes and summoned the power. The picture formed in her mind, perfect and pure and wild. She stretched out her hand …

The first things she heard were gasps and stifled exclamations. The next was silence. She didn't open her eyes until the silence was broken by the gentle whickering of a horse.

When Elsa blinked the world into focus, a horse of pure ice and snow was standing before her, whickering and sniffing her hair.

"Hello," Elsa murmured. Slowly, she lifted her hand. Amazing – when you touched Olaf, he felt like snow, but she'd arranged the snow on the horse to fall in strands, like real hair. The horse's mane and tail were both of pure blue ice spun into hair, like her ice dress, while the hooves were solid ice.

The horse was plunging her nose – it was most definitely a her – into Elsa's cloak, as if looking for something. _What does she want?_ Sven acted like that when he smelled carrots …

_No, not carrots._ She remembered something her cousin Rapunzel had said. Elsa conjured an apple of ice. "Is this what you want?"

The horse stamped its hooves and greedily gobbled up the apple.

That broke the silent spell. "Wow, Queen Eltha!" The little girl darted forward, her arms locking around the mare's legs before Elsa could hurry her away. Strangely enough the mare stood perfectly still, at least until she bent her neck to whicker and blow on the little girl's head, which made her giggle. "What'th her name?"

Elsa glanced at the horse. Olaf had virtually named himself, and as for Marshmallow … But the more she looked at the horse, who had blue eyes like Marshmallow's, the clearer the name became. "White Chocolate," she replied. The horse neighed. "Coco for short."

Coco stamped once (a leg the little girl wasn't holding onto) and nodded her approval.

Elsa smiled and scratched Coco's nose. She glanced over her shoulder at Nick and the guards, who were staring open-jawed at her and Coco. "So, Ambassador," she asked, eyes sparkling like the sun on snow, "is the invitation to join you still open?"

Nick's brilliant smile told her all she needed to know.

* * *

They ended up riding through the city instead of sneaking out the back way, as Elsa had thought she would.

She had paraded through the city before, safely ensconced in an open carriage or a sled, waving to the passers-by. But that was nothing compared to a ride. Even with her hair neatly braided and pinned, she could feel the wind in it. Even with the slow pace they were forced to take through the Saturday market traffic, her heart was thrilling. Even with two guards of Weselton behind her, Elsa was smiling.

Riding Coco was like sailing on a cloud. From what Elsa remembered of riding, it was loud and bumpy and rough. Coco smoothly passed over the rough cobblestones, her hooves ringing musically with every step. Elsa barely had to hold onto the icy reins that Coco had conjured when she realized they were going for a ride. And even if the saddle, created at the same time, was made of ice, the idea of Elsa falling off was ludicrous.

And the people were cheering for her!

Elsa's hand was going to grow sore from waving, or perhaps her lips would start to hurt from smiling. For once, she didn't care. The only looks she was able to see today were those of surprise and joy, the only sounds were gasps of delight and awe. Children ran in front of their parents to get a better look at the magic horse, and even plenty of the parents looked impressed.

_I could get used to this,_ Elsa thought, giddy, glancing at Nick. He was watching her, and for once he only smiled when she turned to watch him.

But there were other things that Elsa didn't hear, or maybe that she couldn't hear. There were some faces that darkened or grew dismayed when she passed by. There were some whispers that were angry or spiteful. And in a well-appointed house in one of the better neighborhoods of the city, there was a hasty meeting, a heated argument, and an uneasy agreement.

None of that, however, happened until after Elsa and Nick had put the gates of the city behind them.

"Ready for a run?" asked Nick, pulling Polaris up. Polaris champed at the bit – clearly _someone_ was ready for a run.

Elsa nodded. Coco was standing very still, calm and collected, but Elsa knew that the minute Elsa gave the signal, she would race off like the wind itself.

"All right. But—" Nick bit his lip. "Maybe we'll start off a bit more slowly? And work our way up to a run gradually? It has been a while since you've done—"

"Coco, yah!" Elsa tapped the reins and Coco was off. She looked over her shoulder and laughed at the dumbfounded Nick. "Catch me if you can!"

Then Elsa faced forward, leaned closer to Coco's neck, and watched the scenery fly past.

This was better than she had ever imagined! She'd never ridden this fast as a child – there was always the fear of falling off and hitting the unforgiving ground. Anna was the one who pushed her horse to breakneck speed, who never saw a fence that couldn't be jumped, who saw rough terrain as an exhilarating challenge. But on Coco's back, Elsa thought she could finally give her sister a run for her money.

Coco's hooves sparkled in the sunlight. The whole world was ablaze in light. Maybe the winter sun was low and weak, but when it hit the snow like this, it lit up the whole world.

"Elsa!" Elsa looked back to see Nick and Polaris straining to catch up. "I thought you hadn't done this!"

"I haven't!"

"Then how—?"

"_Magic_!" Elsa called, and meant it. "Race you to the red barn!"

"You've already got a head start!"

"I'm the Queen! I can cheat if I want!"

At any other time, Elsa would have been surprised to see Nick's grin. But at any other time, she wouldn't have been riding, or laughing, or suggesting a race in the first place. "Very well then! As Her Majesty wishes!"

Elsa threw her head back and laughed.

Coco continued to eat up the ground in loping, perfectly even strides. Elsa could hear Nick and Polaris catching up behind her. She could have spurred Coco to go faster, but it felt unnecessary. Coco, Elsa sensed, knew that they were racing. She would go just fast enough to win, but still give a chance.

_I really _am_ cheating,_ Elsa thought. At the thought, and the faint discomfort it brought, Coco slowed slightly. She kept that pace until Nick and Polaris caught up, then Coco matched Polaris stride for stride.

But Nick was watching her, curiously, eyes narrowed. When they finally reached the red barn, both of them pulled up, Nick's eyes not leaving her hands.

"Er … Nick?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry." He smiled a little sheepishly. "It's just … that's not how you're supposed to hold the reins."

"It's not?" Elsa looked at her hands.

She _was_ holding the reins all wrong. She remembered that much from her childhood riding lessons. You were supposed to keep a tight hold on the reins, but give the horse enough freedom to move and turn. Keep your wrists loose and supple, and make sure that the line from your elbow to your hands to the bit is perfectly clear and straight.

But somehow, riding Coco, it didn't seem to matter. Now it was Elsa's turn to narrow her eyes.

Coco turned her head, as if she could hear what Elsa was thinking. There was a knowing look in that bright blue eye of hers. It asked, _Do you trust me, or don't you?_

Elsa brought her hands back the way they had been. "I think …" She glanced at Coco's ears, flicking toward her. "I think the reins might mostly be for show."

Coco nodded her head up and down. Elsa glanced sidelong at Polaris to find him looking a little – jealous?

Nick looked from Elsa to Coco and back to Elsa again. "… It's magic, isn't it?"

Elsa chortled. "I think it might be."

"Should have known." Now that the guards had caught up, he turned Polaris back toward the road. They ambled down it at a gentle trot, fast enough to keep them warm (or at any rate to keep Nick warm), but slow enough to allow for conversation. "So … does Coco simply do what you want, or do you trust her to do all of the driving?"

Elsa glanced at the back of Coco's head. She slowly patted her mane. The ice-hair she had made was softer than silk, smoother than satin. "I think Coco does what I want, provided that I want what she wants." After a moment's pause, she added, "She's rather like Anna in that respect."

Nick threw his head back. His laugh rang through the still morning. Elsa giggled, her hand covering her mouth.

They kept riding.

* * *

They rode for hours. Elsa knew that Anna would sometimes be gone for that long, or even longer, but she was surprised that Nick and the guards could keep going in the cold, to say nothing of the horses. Perhaps most people were hardier when it came to cold than she was able to understand. It was hard to work out an accurate theory when her own baseline was so wildly off base compared to everyone else's.

They talked about everything as they rode – the stars, the ships that sailed into Arendelle and Weselton, memories of their childhoods. Elsa didn't have much to tell, having been isolated for so many years, but Nick was full of stories. He told of how he and Ricky (mostly Ricky) would play tricks on their tutors, how Nick used to sneak out at night to watch the stars, how Ricky would follow their father, imitating his military bearing step for step until Nick and his mother couldn't handle it anymore and started howling with laughter.

There were stories about the Duke, too. Nick came to them haltingly, and Elsa could tell he was leaving a great deal out, but she could still understand the gist. The Duke, she sensed, had never liked Nick or Ricky very much. The Duchess – who had died about a year after Elsa's parents had – had positively loathed them.

But who could blame her? One night in her study, Elsa had pushed her paperwork aside and opened up the _Almanach de Gotha_. It wasn't hard to find the entry for Duke Maximilian of Weselton and his wife Borghild. Their marriage had lasted over forty-five years. And under the heading for issue, what did it say?

None.

Just that. One simple word. No mention of any stillbirths, or children who lived a few short years only to pass away. The marriage had no issue.

Then one looked down the page to the next important member of the ruling house of Weselton, to Elof Solberg and his wife Dagmar. Their marriage had begun almost two decades after the Duke and Duchess's. But a year after the marriage a son was born, and a year and a half after that, another son.

It would probably take a better woman than one the Duke of Weselton would be able to talk into marrying him to not hate that.

When they rode back into the city, the crowds that were there to greet them were bigger than they had been when they left. Probably the word of Queen Elsa's magic horse had spread. Elsa had to wonder if every child in the city had come out to see Coco, or to see her again. The streets were certainly thronged with enough people that two of Elsa's guards and both of Nick's had to ride out in front to clear the way, leaving one lonely Arendelle guard to bring up the rear.

Sometimes Elsa would catch a glance of those maroon cloaks out of the corner of her eye and shudder. But all it took was a single glance over to Nick for the smile to return to her face.

When they finally crossed the causeway, back into the palace, Elsa was still smiling. The last time her heart had felt this free and open had been when she and Anna had triumphantly returned to the city after the Great Thaw. Even that day had been marred by the lurking knowledge that she had made a huge mess that she would somehow have to clean up. Today, she still had Hans's trial in the back of her mind, and the negotiations, and the pamphlets and everything else …

But it was hard to care about any of it.

Coco brought Elsa to the mounting block, and quickly Soren Njalsen was on hand to help her dismount. "Thank you," she said. She patted Coco gently. "Make sure that she's well taken care of, Master Njalsen."

"Oh, I will, Your Majesty!" The plump man puffed up like a peacock. "Our family takes good care of the Queen and all her own!"

_Our family …_ Finally, staring at the man's features, it clicked. "You're—you're Marte's father, aren't you?"

Soren beamed. "I am indeed, Your Majesty! An' never was a father prouder! Er—" He coughed awkwardly. "I mean, exceptin' your own, of course, if he were still here to be proud. Not that he isn't proud, wherever he is!"

Elsa smiled. "You have every reason to be proud," she replied. "Marte is a lovely young woman. I frankly don't know what I'd do without her."

Soren's smile lit up the courtyard, and he was still wearing it as he led Coco into the stables.

Nick came up to Elsa as soon as another stable hand had taken care of Polaris. Hesitantly, he offered her his arm; Elsa took it without a second thought. They headed back into the palace.

"So …" He asked. "Did you—have plans for after dinner?" The way Nick blushed as he said that was adorable.

Elsa felt a little flush rise in her cheeks. "Well … I didn't have anything _planned_ …"

"It's just that," Nick stumbled, "it's the new moon tonight, which means that it will be very easy to stargaze. I was going to set up my telescope on the south tower, and I thought maybe that …? But of course if you don't want to—"

"Nick." Elsa giggled. "I would love to."

Nick beamed. "You would? Really? Then—then I shall see you after supper, Elsa! And I need to get my telescope set up!"

Elsa laughed. "You should probably do that while there's still light to see by."

"I should! I—thank you, Elsa." Nick disentangled his arm from Elsa's and bowed to her. "Until after supper, Elsa."

"Until then, Nick."

Nick grinned at her, then, seemingly on impulse, he took her hand in his and kissed it. Elsa gasped at the flood of warmth that flowed through her. But with one last grin, Nick turned around and was gone, hurrying toward his quarters, or perhaps the south tower.

Elsa wandered in a daze toward her own chamber. She came to the great spiral staircase before she heard anything to snap her out of her reverie.

"Oh, _El-sa_ …"

Elsa looked up. There was Anna, leaning over the railing, grinning. "A little birdie told me," she said in a sing-song voice, "that a certain Queen was seen riding with a certain Ambassador this morning. Is that _true_, sister mine?"

Elsa blushed. "Yes …"

Anna squealed. "Yay!" She leapt onto the banister and slid all the way down. For once Elsa was too ebullient to close her eyes, certain that her sister was going to break her neck. It didn't even surprise her when Anna landed neatly on her feet and ran to hug Elsa. Elsa hugged her back.

"You have to tell me everything!" Anna pulled away, gripping Elsa's shoulders. "What you said, what he said, what you did …"

"I …" Elsa felt herself looking around, but there was no one else to see her. "Anna, it was—impossible to describe!"

"Try me, sis!"

"I …" She sighed, unable to stop smiling. "It was wonderful! And we're going stargazing tonight!"

Anna's eyes, already large, went even wider. "Wait, what?"

"Is that bad?" Elsa asked, chewing her lip. Was that too forward? Should she not have accepted it?

"_Bad_?" Anna's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me? Elsa, this is great!" She hugged her again. "You're going on a real date!"

Now it was Elsa's turn to feel her eyes go wide. "Wait, what?"

* * *

**Thank you to my reviewers, WinterKnight2104, Jacob Flores, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, CrunchDeNumbers, RJCA27, and Batman1809. I'm glad you all liked the first of the trial chapters, and I hope this one didn't disappoint!**

**Also, let the record show that everything I know about the law, I learned from **_**Law & Order**_**. And Google.**

**Anyways, review, favorite, follow – let me know what you think! Thank you!**


	16. To Dream I'd Find Romance

Chapter 16: To Dream I'd Find Romance

"I don't understand!" Elsa wailed. She stared at the beautiful silks and satins, the velvet and damask, and every other gorgeous gown in her wardrobe. "I'm the Queen of Arendelle! I'm sure I have more gowns than any other woman in the country. How, _how_ can I have nothing to wear?"

Elsa couldn't remember the last time she had felt like this – nervous and panicky but somehow happy all at once. Certain that the world was going to end and just as sure that tonight was going to be the best night of her life. The last time she'd felt anything approaching this level of nerves, she had been preparing to be crowned. The ice had risen up inside of her, practically choking her, itching to get out of any inch of exposed skin.

Now there was no ice at all. It stayed quiet and happy inside of her. But the rest of Elsa was not so happy at all.

"Relax, Elsa," Anna patted her shoulder. "You're getting ready for a date. This is normal."

"It shouldn't be _possible_," Elsa muttered. Her eyes were still going over every dress, one by one, and rejecting all of them. This one was too formal, that one too casual, this one too flouncy, that one too plain, this one too green, that one too red.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty," said Marte, "I'm with the Princess. It doesn't matter whether you've only got two dresses in your dower trunk or two dozen; when you're getting ready to see the boy you like, the one dress you think you'd actually look pretty wearing just isn't there."

Elsa swallowed. "But …"

"Come on!" Anna pushed past her and into the closet. "You can't go rejecting everything until you've at least tried a few dresses. Here, do this one first!" She took out a ruby-red gown evening gown. The front portion of the gown was cut away to reveal a creamy underdress.

"Red, Your Highness?" asked Marte.

"She looks good in red!" Anna replied. "Of course, she looks good in everything she's got in her closet, so that's not saying much. Here, try it!" She tossed the gown at Elsa.

"Um …"

Marte took the gown and laid it on the bed. "How about we find a few contenders, Your Highness, and then Her Majesty can start trying them on?"

"Good idea. Let's see … oh, this one!" She grabbed a gown of midnight blue with silver accents. "You need to try this one, too. Oh, and this," she grabbed a green gown with black piping, "and this," a purple evening dress with lacy sleeves, "oh, and this one too!" a pure white gown of shining satin.

All Elsa could think, looking at the gowns, was that they were all very nice, but none of them was the right one.

"Marte?" Anna glanced at the maid. "You're the professional. What are your suggestions?"

"Hmm …" Marte tapped her chin with one hand, her gaze going from one gown to the next.

She walked up and down the rows, and then she started selecting evening dresses. Each one of them, Elsa noticed, was frilly and feminine – as frilly and feminine as Elsa would tolerate. Each one looked like they belonged on a blushing debutante.

Marte grabbed three such dresses and laid them on the bed. "Well, Your Majesty, which would you like to try first?"

Elsa glanced sidelong at Anna. Anna was looking thoughtfully at the dresses; then she felt Elsa's gaze and looked up. "Hey, it's your date!"

_Blast._ "I'll try the red one first," she said.

She must have worn the red one half-a-dozen times, at various parties and entertainments. She'd rather liked the contrast of the brilliant ruby velvet against her ivory skin. Today, however, when she looked at herself in the glass …

There were red laces that crisscrossed the creamy underdress. There were little rosettes that decorated each crossing of the laces. There was entirely too much lace on the shoulders. The skirt was too large.

"I look like a trussed up wedding cake!" Elsa cried out.

"Here, my lady." Marte handed her a different dress. "Try this one."

Elsa ducked behind the screen, and with Marte's help, she was out of one dress and into one that Marte had picked out.

This one was made of cream silk hand-painted with flowers done in the rosemaling style. At a summer ball, it was a charming evening gown. The hand-sewn ruching on the bust and shoulders was a lovely detail, showing the gown to be expensive and well-made without shoving the knowledge into your face. Even better, many young women wore gowns like this, so Elsa could blend into the crowd.

But tonight the cream clashed horribly with her complexion, and the flowers … "I'm a flowered nightmare," Elsa said, staring at her aghast reflection.

"Ok," Anna replied, "give the green one a try!"

And so it went on.

Every gown she had tried on, she had worn on multiple occasions. Every gown, she liked. Half of them she had bought upon seeing them in a shop, the other half she had commissioned from scratch.

Every single one of them was all wrong. The green one made her look like she was about to vomit. (That may not have been entirely the fault of the dress.) The purple one was too formal, too "Queeny." The next one Marte had her try on, a blue and pink confection festooned with lace and ribbons and bows, was far too much for a simple appointment to go stargazing. And so on.

The only gown that came close, that Elsa actually turned back and forth in the mirror to look at and that she almost smiled to see herself in, was the midnight blue with the silver accents. Then Elsa realized that in the dark of the tower, the gown might fade into the background, making her look like a disembodied head with arms, and the smile dropped away.

After every dress Anna and Marte had brought out was tried on and rejected, Elsa flopped onto the bed. She was only wearing her underthings and her hair was starting to come out of its carefully pinned back style. "What is wrong with me?"

"Relax, Elsa. You've got a lot of dresses, and we still have time." Anna had one hand on her hip, head cocked to the side as she stared at the open closet. "Now, let's see …"

"Er, begging your pardon, Your Highness, but if I might make a suggestion …?" Marte asked.

"Suggest away," Elsa replied before Anna could object – not that she would, but just in case.

"Maybe …" Marte glanced nervously between Anna and Elsa. "Maybe we're going about this in the wrong way. Maybe, instead of just picking dresses, we should ask the Queen what she really wants to look like?"

"What do you mean?" Anna asked. "She wants to look like herself!"

_I do?_ Elsa wondered.

"Well, I agree, Your Highness," Marte replied, "but the problem is …" She gestured to the closet. "Her Majesty has quite a few selves to choose from."

Anna looked at the closet. Elsa watched her jaw clack shut, her finger tap on her chin. "… You know, Marte, when you're right, you're right, and you are very much _right_."

She turned back to her sister. "So, Elsa! Which self do you want be tonight?"

Elsa blinked. Her eyes narrowed, and she turned her gaze to the embroidered canopy of the bed.

Which Elsa did she want to be?

_Nothing with a "Queen" attached,_ she decided. Not the Queen of Arendelle, not the Snow Queen. But when she wasn't being the queen … well, then she was usually behind the desk in her study, working, and then she just wanted to be comfortable. The jacketed dresses and sensible skirts were perfectly presentable, but they were nothing she wanted to wear on a date.

But there was nothing else she had in her wardrobe, was there?

_Wait …_

There was one other thing …

Elsa stood up suddenly, making both Anna and Marte jump. "Ladies … stand back a moment, if you would?"

Marte and Anna exchanged glances, but they quickly moved back.

Elsa closed her eyes, reached for the ice inside, and let it go.

She could feel it crawling across her skin, winding itself into threads, sparkling in the candlelight. The brilliant, sparkling blue ice dress grew from the skirt up. She heard Anna and Marte gasping as the transformation completed itself.

It was the same ice dress she had created for herself at her palace – complete with the long, gauzy cape – with one small difference. The skirt was a bit fuller, enough to allow her to walk and move without the slit up the side. She was not showing that much leg to Nick on what might technically be a first date. Or a second date, or a third, or whatever date it actually was.

She took a deep breath and turned to see Marte and Anna both staring at her with fallen jaws. "… Well?" Elsa asked.

"… Whoa," Anna squeaked.

Marte gulped. "Your Majesty, with all due respect … if you can do _that_, what do you need _me_ for?"

Elsa laughed. "Marte, if you think all I need you for is to help me into and out of my clothes, you are sorely mistaken!" Another thought hit her, of all that she did need Marte for. "And …" She gulped. "Please, while we are in private … call me Elsa."

Marte's eyes bugged. Elsa tried to smile. Then Marte grinned, and Elsa smiled back for real.

"Yay!" Anna said, clapping her hands. "So now that _that's_ sorted …" She rubbed her hands together and tried to cackle. Unfortunately Anna and cackling mixed together like Olaf and ill-temper. "What are we going to do with your hair?"

Perhaps to Anna's disappointment, Elsa had an easy answer for that. "French braid, over the shoulder."

"Of course!" replied Marte. "Here, Your Maj—er, Elsa, have a seat," she gestured to the vanity stool, "and I'll get started!"

"All right!" Anna popped behind Marte, staring into the mirror with Elsa as Marte started to undo her hair and brush through it. "And what about accessories?"

Elsa could have made all kinds of accessories. She'd been meaning to experiment with ice jewelry for quite a long time. But … today, that would have taken half the fun out of it.

So Elsa smiled at her sister in the mirror. "I'm sure we'll think of something."

Anna clapped her hands and ran for the jewelry chest. And for the first time that evening, Elsa looked at herself in the mirror, smiled, and knew she'd made exactly the right decision.

* * *

When her hair was done and her accessories chosen, when she'd hugged Anna for good luck and let Marte fuss over her one last time, then and only then did Elsa go to the south tower.

She left her guard-shadow at the foot of the steps at the bottom of the tower. He didn't like it, but it was the only entrance or exit to the tower, and she didn't need an audience for this date.

She slowly climbed up the spiraling staircase, skirt gathered in one hand and the other on the railing. With every step and every breath she tried to calm her nerves. But when she turned to look behind her, or look at the railing underneath her hand, she never saw any ice.

_Thank Asgard for small blessings?_

Finally she came to the door that led outside. Elsa rolled her shoulders, tilted her chin high, and opened it.

She didn't see Nick at first. But she heard him by the small metallic clinks and tinkles to her left. She slowly followed the sound around the tower. Thanks to the lights all over the city, there was just enough to see by, but hopefully it wouldn't destroy their view of the stars.

And there was Nick.

He was bending over the telescope, carefully adjusting it. She could not see his face, only the line of his back and the shape of his coat. Elsa coughed softly to alert him to her presence.

He looked up. "Elsa!"

"Hello," she replied.

He didn't answer. He did not seem to be able to. His jaw had fallen and he was staring her up and down.

Elsa swallowed and tried to see herself through his eyes. The blue ice dress, sparkling in the reflected light from the city. Her hair in its simple braid, decorated with snowflakes she had created herself. She and Anna had chosen aquamarine teardrop earrings and a simple aquamarine pendant in the shape of a snowflake for her necklace.

She took a step closer, her hands held closely and somehow steadily in front of her. She tried to smile.

Nick swallowed. Then he grinned. "My lady … you look …" He shook his head. "Beautiful doesn't do it justice."

Elsa blushed but tried to laugh. Inside, part of her was doing somersaults. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Nick chortled. "Let's not kid ourselves." He took a step closer, and Elsa held out her hand. Nick took it in his own for a moment, squeezed it, and kissed it.

His lips just grazed the long sleeve. For a moment Elsa saw him frown. "You can—you can touch it if you want," Elsa said. "I mean—my dress."

Nick's eyes went wide, but after only a little hesitation, he slowly drew a finger up Elsa's arm. Elsa shivered – and when was the last time _that_ had happened?

"It's cold …" Nick murmured.

"It's ice," Elsa replied.

Nick blinked. She saw his jaw fall.

"I made it myself," she added, and then kicked herself. She sounded like she was twelve!

But Nick only looked impressed. Then he smiled. "You know, Elsa … I thought I received a full report of your powers …" He kept drawing his finger up and down her arm. "But somehow dressmaking wasn't on the list."

Elsa laughed. "I have a feeling the only powers anyone has bothered to mention are the ones I could use to conquer the continent."

"Well, there's more ways to do that than creating an army of invincible snowmen backed up by an eternal winter," Nick replied drily. Elsa giggled. "Put that dress in one of the shop windows of the Champs-Elysees and you'll wipe out Francelle's entire fashion industry."

"Hardly. I think I'm the only one who can wear it," Elsa chuckled.

"Allow me to rephrase. Show up in wearing _that_ to a ball with all of the male crowned heads of the continent …" Nick waggled his eyebrows and let the sentence dangle.

"And get all the queens mad at me? Nick, Nick, Nick. Didn't your tutors always tell you that behind every powerful man, there's a woman pulling the strings?"

"Is that so? And what's behind every powerful woman?" Nick asked.

Elsa pretended to think about it. "Well, I can't speak for _every_ powerful woman," she replied, "but I can certainly say for myself that it would be … a hyperactive sister, an ice harvester, a snowman who loves the summer, and a reindeer with a carrot problem."

Nick blinked – then he laughed. Elsa laughed too.

It was then she noticed that at some point Nick had taken hold of her hand, and he didn't show any sign of letting go.

Elsa didn't feel any sign that she would mind.

When they stopped laughing, they looked at their hands, joined together. They looked back up at each other and smiled.

"Come on," Nick murmured. He did let go of her hand, but only so he could place his on the small of her back. "I want to show you something. Have you ever seen Saturn?"

"I've seen pictures in books, and my mother pointed it out to me once."

Nick grinned. "You haven't seen Saturn. Here …" He pointed to the sky, finding a bright star off to their west. "That's Saturn. Second star to the right."

"I see," Elsa replied.

"Not yet." His smile was infectious. Nick bent to the telescope, made a few minute adjustments, and popped up. "_Now_ …" He guided her closer, his hand still on the small of her back. "Now you'll see Saturn. Look!"

Elsa bent toward the telescope and looked.

"Oh!" she gasped. When she looked up, Saturn was still a bright star in the sky – completely unremarkable if you didn't know what it was. When she looked down …

A beautiful yellow ball floated in the telescope, surrounded by gorgeous rings of white and the palest purple. She heard Nick make some clicking noises, and gradually the rings came into greater focus.

"It's … oh my goodness …" Elsa looked up. "I've never seen anything half so beautiful!"

Nick didn't answer right away. Elsa glanced at him.

He was watching her with a tiny smile poking at the corner of his lip. His hand hadn't left the small of her back. Elsa found herself hoping it would never leave.

"That's what I thought, too," he finally replied, "when I first saw it. After …" He looked up, taking it all in. "Well … maybe I haven't seen any _thing_ as beautiful …"

Nick's gaze dropped back down to her. "But any _one_ …"

Elsa tried to laugh. It came out more like a gasp. Hopefully her smile, and her fierce blush, told him what she was trying to say.

Maybe it did. Nick's other hand came up, slowly, brushing a stray strand of hair off her face and behind her ear. Elsa felt herself gulp. But she couldn't have torn her gaze away from Nick if half of the ships in the harbor were on fire.

He leaned closer, closing his eyes. Elsa closed hers.

It was agony to wait. But when his lips touched hers, it was worth it.

Elsa couldn't gasp, that would have entailed breaking off the kiss. Snow – pure, beautiful snow – burst out of her instead. It fell gently around them in a faint puff of white.

Nick's lips were gentle, teasing, going not too far but just—far—enough. Some part of Elsa's worrying mind was all-too-conscious of the fact that she had no idea what to do, so she tried to follow his lead as best she could. Nick's hands remained on the small of her back and on her face, and Elsa held her own stiffly at her side.

When Nick pulled away, Elsa's heart was pounding and she couldn't stop smiling.

He beamed down at her and started to stroke her cheek.

Somehow, Elsa gained the courage to lay her hand on his shoulder. The other hovered around his waist, not quite daring to touch.

Nick seemed to understand what she wanted better than she did. The hand left her face and came around her waist. With a sigh of something like relief, Elsa collapsed into his arms.

They were very close in height, closer when Elsa was in heels, as she was now. She rested her head on his shoulder. Her eyes closed with the sheer deliciousness of it all.

"You're so warm …" she whispered.

"And you're like holding a breath of winter air," he murmured back.

Elsa shifted. "I'm not too cold, am I? I could …" She paused, wondering just what she _could_ do, wondering that was complicated by the fact that she was wearing a dress made of ice.

"What? No. No! Elsa, you're …" He kissed her cheek, slowly, tenderly. "You're _perfect_."

She squeezed her eyes shut and clung more tightly to him.

Nick held her, nuzzled her, rocked her back and forth.

"You …" Elsa murmured. Her lips so close to his ear, there was no reason or need to speak loudly. "You're more than I ever dared to dream I'd have …"

"What? _Me_?" Nick's response was to hold her more tightly. "I'm no girl's handsome prince."

Elsa shook her head. He was being so foolish. What girl _wouldn't_ be thrilled with a young man who was so intelligent, and sweet, and thoughtful, and handsome too?

But her answer was a little more elliptical than that. "My mother used to say that true love can turn any man into a handsome prince."

"Your mother was a very wise woman." He chuckled. "I wish my father said something half so wise that I could tell you."

"You're here. That's enough."

Elsa let her eyes fall closed, resting on his shoulder. They slowly swayed from side to side, dancing to the music of the spheres.

Nick slowly planted a kiss at the place where her neck and shoulder met.

Elsa jumped. "Oh!"

"Oh—sorry, I didn't mean to startle you—" He tried to move away, but Elsa's fingers wrapped in his greatcoat soon put a stop to that.

"No, no, no! I just …" She was blushing again. "I didn't know that was … a thing, that's all."

She dared to look at Nick's face. He wore the expression of someone manfully trying to hold back laughter.

Elsa blushed. "You must think I'm such an idiot …"

"No." One hand came under her chin, tilting her head so she would have to look at him. Any sign that he had been holding back a laugh was gone. "Never. Elsa—you say such things about yourself—but an idiot? _Never_."

He wrapped his arms around her again, kissing her hair. "No one's born knowing this. Any of this. And no one can teach you, not really. We all muddle through it as we go." A mirthless chuckle. "I'm sure you can remember each of the foolish things I've said to _you_ since we met."

"Your mouth … runs away with you sometimes. That's not a bad thing."

"In a _diplomat_?"

Elsa giggled. "In a … in a beau." She pulled away enough to look him in the eye and smile at him. "How about … maybe I started this, but maybe we should concentrate on muddling through together, and try not to beat ourselves up for every silly thing that comes out of our mouths?"

"I can get behind that," Nick replied, grinning.

"Good. Because …" Elsa bit her lip, but if she didn't ask, she'd never learn, right? She could tell herself that in any case. "I think I could use a bit more muddling on the subject of … kissing."

Nick's eyebrows rose, but he soon was smiling. "As my lady wishes."

He closed his eyes and she closed hers. Nick's lips slowly came to rest on Elsa's, but within a few seconds she could feel him pressing to go a bit deeper, explore a bit more. Elsa was all too happy to follow his lead—

Until fire exploded inside of her.

Elsa gasped and stumbled back, clutching her heart. If she could have seen herself, she would have been horrorstruck: she looked almost exactly as Anna had when Elsa's magic struck her the second time.

She wasn't thinking of that now. She could hear Nick calling her name, close to panic, and trying to hold her up. But he sounded as if he was calling from the other end of a long tunnel, and even his hands on her felt like it was happening to another person.

All she could feel was fire.

Flames bursting all around, licking every inch of her skin. She wanted to scream and beg for help, but the fire stole her voice. She was melting, dissolving with every second, and nothing could stop it—

Until it suddenly did stop, just as suddenly as it had begun.

Elsa came to herself huddled on the floor, rocking back and forth, shaking and shuddering. There was unfamiliar warmth on her – not just Nick's arm but also his greatcoat. As the roaring in her ears subsided, she could hear him saying her name over and over again.

"Elsa, Elsa, Elsa …"

She swallowed. Her throat was suddenly dry and she couldn't stop shaking. "I'm here."

"Elsa!" Nick shifted, both hands on her shoulder, staring into her eyes. "Are you all right? Do you need a physician? What happened?"

"… I don't know." It would have to do for all three questions. She took a deep, gulping breath, trying to get her heart and her breathing under control. Her insides felt hollow, abandoned, as if she'd lost a part of herself.

She smelled something. She looked up and sniffed the air again. "Do you … do you smell that?"

Nick obligingly sniffed. His eyes went wide. "Smoke."

_Oh no. Oh, gods, _no_—_

Then the clanging started. It was one of the many bells from the small chapel in the castle. This one was only rung on one occasion.

It was followed by a loud voice from the courtyard, confirming what Elsa already knew. "FIRE!" Another clang. "FIRE IN THE STABLES!"

Elsa's eyes went wide, and she scrambled to her feet.

"_Coco_!"

* * *

**Thank you to my wonderful reviewers, bandgeek63, Jacob Flores, WinterKnight2104, Batman1809, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, RJCA27, CrunchDeNumbers, and Guest! I'm glad you're all enjoying the story, even if (as I was afraid of) the judicial system I am using is wildly off-base compared to the rest of Europe. Oh well – in my head-canon, Arendelle is historically allied with Andalasia, which is Disney England, so I'm saying the judicial system rubbed off. That's my story and I'm sticking to it! ;)**

**Also, if anybody wants to see pictures of the gowns I used as inspiration for some of Elsa's dresses, let me know either in a review or a PM. I'll be happy to privately share and/or post links.**

**Anyways, thank you for the reviews and feedback. I love all of your comments!**

**Until next time!**


	17. The Hot and the Cold are Both so Intense

Chapter 17: The Hot and the Cold are Both so Intense

Elsa ran to the door and tore down the stairs, one thought ringing in her head. _Fire in the stables. Fire in the stables._

How long could Coco last in a fire? Olaf had started to melt after only a minute in the summer heat. And summer heat was nothing compared to a fire.

And there were all the other horses in the stables—and oh, _gods_, the stable hands, and—

_SVEN!_

If it were possible, Elsa ran faster. She didn't know how she made it to the bottom of the stairs without tripping on her skirt. She pushed the door open, surprising her guard. "Your Majesty!"

"Elsa!" That was Nick, in calling distance. "Elsa, wait!"

"I can't!" she called over her shoulder.

"Your Majesty, STOP!"

"Elsa!"

She ignored Nick. She ignored the guard.

She ran across the courtyard.

She could see the orange glow of the stable fire already.

There was a crowd of people around it, servants holding buckets, water being splashed on the fire. She could hear shouting, but one voice stood out.

"SVEN!" Three guards were holding Kristoff back. "Let _go_ of me! Sven's in there! SVEN!"

Later, it would occur to Elsa to be grateful that Kristoff hadn't been in there with Sven.

She started pushing her way through the crowd. "Move! Make way!" Why did that work when the guards did it, but not when she did it? "MOVE!" she commanded again, a blast of winter air from her hands punctuating the point.

Someone turned around. "The Queen!"

"Stand back, Your Majesty!"

"Don't get close!"

This close, she could hear the roar of the fire, and even more chilling, the screams of terrified horses. "Out of my way!" Elsa shouted, holding up her hands. A blue glow was already focusing around them.

Most of them got the picture. They made way.

One didn't.

A rough pair of hands grabbed Elsa around the waist and started to bodily pull her back. Elsa didn't think; she just reacted. Panic rose within her, and she shrieked and kicked.

She made contact with a shin; the hands dropped her. Elsa started to run until a foot stomped on her cape, jerking her back.

She spun around. "Captain! Remove your foot this instant!"

Captain Olhouser ground his heel in. "Absolutely not! Your Majesty, I cannot under any circumstances allow you to get any closer! Go back inside and let the professionals handle it!"

Elsa's eyes blazed and she lifted her hands. The blue glow grew brighter. "Go _inside_? I AM THE SNOW QUEEN!"

Blizzard-force winds and stinging snow whipped around the two of them, emphasizing the point.

"I froze all of Arendelle for two days! I can create living beings of snow and ice with my hands! The thought of my magic gives kings nightmares! And you think I can't handle a simple _stable fire_?" Elsa's eyes blazed and another shower of snow fell. "Captain, unless you want to spend the rest of your days as an icicle, you will REMOVE YOUR FOOT and let me handle this!"

Captain Olhouser's response was to lunge toward her. Elsa pushed him back with a blast of winter air, and when his feet hit the ground, she froze them.

Then she took off running toward the fire. "Out of my way!"

This time, everyone listened.

She stopped only when she got close enough to feel the heat. For a second she stopped, fear leaping up and grabbing her by the throat.

The fire was _hungry_. It was bold and it was rapacious. It would devour everything in its path. It meant change and it meant fury. It was everything that Elsa was not.

And it was coming for her.

_Snap out of it!_ shouted the voice of better sense. _It's a fire, not a demon! And YOU are the Snow Queen!_

Elsa swallowed. "I am the Snow Queen," she whispered.

She raised her hands and summoned a blast of winter air that she'd never tried before.

It was almost like blowing out the candles on a birthday cake, except it wasn't like that at all. The gale whipped through the stables, blowing out fires. The horses screamed and Elsa thought she heard Sven bellowing.

It wasn't going to be enough.

Elsa followed the wind with snow – more snow than she had every knowingly conjured before in her life. The fire was still hot enough to melt the snow, but it fell to the ground as drops of rain, each drop quenching the flames.

She kept pushing snow and wind at the fire until the heat began to fade away. Then the glow. Finally there was nothing left but pale, wispy smoke.

That was when the walls of the stable started to crack and buckle.

"Your Majesty, stand back!" Another guard tried to pull her back, though this one had the sense to just barely touch her shoulder and gently tug. "The structure might collapse!"

"No!" Elsa stamped her foot and a thin line of ice shot out. It zoomed straight to the stables, where ice grew around it, encasing every last support column and wall.

There were a few more cracks and creaks, but as the entire courtyard stood and held their breaths, the sounds subsided. The stables wouldn't be going anywhere until Elsa said so.

And once she was sure of that, Elsa took off running for the door, a pair of heavy ice harvesting boots on her heels.

"SVEN!" Kristoff shouted as he followed Elsa into the stables. Sven bellowed in reply, and Kristoff tore off for Sven's box.

"COCO!" Elsa cried.

There was no answer.

_No, no, no –_ But no answer didn't have to mean anything; Coco was a quiet horse. But—where would she be?

_The King's box!_ Of course, that was where the favorite horses of the Kings of Arendelle were kept. Surely Coco would have been put in there –

Elsa took off running.

Her windstorm had cleared most of the smoke away; holes in the roof from where the fire had started were quickly taking care of the rest. Ice covered all of the walls and floor, leaving the stables cool and blue. But evidence of the fire remained. The blasted timbers. Half-burned piles of hay. The hayloft, half collapsed. Horses shrieking and rearing, the whites of their eyes showing whenever a human came near.

Elsa paid attention to none of this before she came to the King's box.

It was empty.

_Maybe Coco wasn't put here,_ Elsa tried to tell herself. _Maybe Master Njalsen put Coco somewhere else, maybe –_

The King's box had been empty since a year after Elsa's father had died; that was when she finally gave the order to move Hofvarpnir (her father's favorite horse, so called because of his tendency to throw shoes) to another stall. Since Elsa did not ride, no other horse had moved into the box.

But the box had not been empty earlier today. Elsa could see a pile – well, half a pile – of fresh hay, a feed box overflowing with oats. There might have even been water in the water trough, though nothing of it remained now.

Of Coco, however, there was no trace. Not even a puddle.

"No …" Elsa whispered, sagging against the wall to the loose box.

The hollow place inside of her seemed larger somehow, red and raw and bleeding around the edges. Coco was gone. Gone forever. And whatever part of Elsa had gone into making her – that was gone as well.

_I will never again be one with the wind and sky …_

"Elsa!" came a voice, followed by a reindeer's bellow. Elsa forced herself to look up.

Kristoff was running toward her, Sven on his heels. "Are you ok?" he asked, coming closer.

_Am I ok?_ Elsa looked forlornly at the box, then shook herself. When her stables had nearly burned down around her, a Queen couldn't very well be sad over a single horse.

"I'm fine," she lied. "How is Sven?"

"Sven's fine, the fire didn't get too close to …" Kristoff suddenly stopped, staring at the empty box. "… Your horse …"

The stables got a little colder. "Kristoff?"

"Your—your horse, she was here, wasn't she?" Kristoff nodded toward the box. "The one you … made today."

Elsa let her eyes slide to the empty box. "… She's gone."

She dared to look at Kristoff. The horror and the sadness written so clearly on his face were almost too much to take. Her hands started shaking and she twisted them together to make it stop.

"Oh, Elsa," Kristoff whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Sven stepped closer and nuzzled Elsa with his nose.

"It … it …" Elsa's mouth opened to downplay it, but no words came out. And why should they? Kristoff was perhaps the only one who could understand.

"Come on." Kristoff put an arm around her shoulder. "You're safe, and Sven's safe," Elsa felt rather honored that he had put her welfare before Sven's, "so we should get out of here and let the guards and the rest of them get to it. You don't have to stay here. You already saved the day by putting out the fire."

Elsa decided to let him lead her out. Maybe he was right. Maybe there was nothing else she could do—

They both stopped in their tracks when they heard it—a piteous moan that froze the blood and caused the stomach to lurch. "Was that …" Elsa whispered, not daring to finish the sentence.

"Oh gods," Kristoff whispered. He took his arm from Elsa and ran for where they had heard the groan come from. Elsa and Sven followed.

The moan came from the hayloft, or rather, the spill of hay at the bottom of the hayloft. Elsa followed Kristoff as he ran toward it.

"Oh gods," Kristoff said again when he came to the hay. "No, Elsa, don't—"

It was too late. She looked.

She stumbled back, both hands on her mouth to prevent a scream. But it wasn't because of the burns on the man's body, the way his clothes had been shredded to reveal the red, raw flesh below. It wasn't because of his arm, bent at an unnatural angle below him. It wasn't even because the groans and moans were increasing.

It was because of the part of him that wasn't burned. His face.

_Master Njalsen!_

"Is he—is he—" Elsa stammered.

"We need to get him out of here," Kristoff replied. "He needs a doctor."

A doctor—a doctor wasn't an undertaker. A doctor meant hope. Elsa turned toward the door.

But the way to the door wasn't clear. "Elsa!"

Nick—he was out of breath, looking wildly from side to side. "ELSA!"

"Nick!"

Nick looked up. He ran toward her. "Elsa! Are you—"

"I'm fine. I'm fine!" Nick still was running toward her, and he didn't stop until he had grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her over a few times. "I'm fine," Elsa murmured. "But Master Njalsen …" She gestured, and instantly regretted it.

Nick gaze followed her hand. His eyes widened and the blood left his face. "Oh gods."

"He needs a doctor. Nick—please—"

"Of course!" He turned.

He stopped. He turned back. He looked Elsa up and down again.

He folded her into his arms and kissed her, a hard kiss, a deep one. Elsa didn't even try to react, though her heart was hammering against Nick's chest just as his was hammering against hers.

When they both had to breathe, Nick cupped her face with his hands. "_Please_ don't do that again. Please."

Then, before she could answer, he had run out of the stables to get help.

* * *

Two hours later, Elsa stumbled up the stairs to her bedroom.

She could not remember being so exhausted in her life. Even her flight up the North Mountain – creating the ice palace! – had not been this tiring. That had been exhilarating. She had felt the power flow through her for the first time in forever, and she had had enough energy to conquer the world.

Now she barely had enough energy to conquer her bed.

She had stayed in the stables until Doctor Spillum and the other medics arrived. First the doctor dosed Soren with laudanum, and then they were able to move him. Even when his burned body was covered by a blanket, Elsa couldn't bring herself to look. But she did allow herself to be persuaded by Kristoff and Captain Olhouser to leave the stables.

She refused to leave the courtyard. Not until after all of the horses were brought out, not until the stables were thoroughly checked and it was determined that poor Soren had been the only human inside of them. Even if she left the actual running of the operation to the men and women with the experience to handle it, she had to be there, she had to help where she could, because she was the Queen.

When the horses were all out, when all of the humans were cleared from the stables and a good distance away, Elsa dispelled the icy shell that had been holding the stables up. The stables cracked, and creaked, and finally the parts that were going to collapse, did.

Captain Olhouser watched it with some distaste. "Your Majesty, you had best get to bed." He sighed. "My men will take it from here."

"Take what? Surely the cleanup can wait until morning."

"We have to determine what caused the fire." Captain Olhouser shook his head. "It was probably a lantern someone left burning, or else someone tossed a cigar to the side and it wasn't all the way out yet. But we have to check."

The Captain, Elsa sensed, probably wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. Seeing that, it was not hard to push her anger with him aside. "How can I help?"

"By going to bed," Captain Olhouser replied. "We're sifting through rubble, Your Majesty. And we'll do a better job of it if we're not worried that moving one beam wrong could lead to half of the stables falling on your head."

Elsa stared at the stables, then at the guards who were already fanning out and starting to sort through the rubble. "Very well. But Captain, please do not exhaust your men unnecessarily over this. As you said, it was almost certainly an accident."

The Captain wouldn't meet her eyes. He was too busy staring at the stables. "Perhaps I'll call in some of Vilmarsen's men as backup. They're better at this sort of thing."

Later, Elsa would realize that should have raised a red flag. Captain Olhouser and Captain Vilmarsen got along as well as … well, a cat and a dog might have been mildly embarrassed by the way they snarled and snapped at each other. To Captain Olhouser, Captain Vilmarsen was an upstart, a blunt and brusque man with no respect for authority and no sense of the natural order of things. He forgot that policemen were supposed to use the back entrance and never bothered to wipe his dirty boots before he came in. To Captain Vilmarsen, Captain Olhouser was a stuck-up prig who only got where he was today because of his family connections. He might have been able to appear to run the Royal Guard, but he couldn't find his own bottom with both hands.

Privately, sometimes Elsa wondered if they both had good points.

Still, at the time, she thought nothing of calling in Captain Vilmarsen's men. The town guard was connected with the town fire brigade; they had to sort through rubble and determine the cause of fires all the time. Why not call in experts and resolve this whole mess that much more quickly?

Indeed, as she trudged down the hallway, still wearing Nick's greatcoat, all she thought of was bed. There was nothing more she could do. She had even gone to the infirmary to check on Master Njalsen, but the nurse had only shaken her head: Doctor Spillum was still working on him, and there was nothing to do but wait.

Finally she came to the white door marked with blue rosemaling. She opened it –

She wasn't expecting to see what she saw.

Anna and Marte were both seated on her bed, a tray of chocolates between them. They were giggling. And several things ran through Elsa's mind in rapid succession.

The first was that her bedroom overlooked the gardens, not the courtyard.

The second was that her room was very well soundproofed.

The third was that no one had told Marte anything.

Elsa's eyes couldn't leave Marte's face. _Oh, gods, no …_

"Your Maj—I mean Elsa!" Marte had turned around, clapping her hands and rising. "How did it—"

She stopped, eyes wide as she took Elsa in. Perhaps that wasn't surprising. Elsa's hair was mussed and coming out of her braid, her cheeks were stained with soot, and Nick's greatcoat now smelled like smoke and horses.

"Elsa?" asked Anna, her eyes wide. "What happened?"

Elsa couldn't stop looking at Marte. "Marte … Marte, please sit down."

Marte blinked, but slowly she sat.

"Elsa?" Anna asked again.

Elsa couldn't answer her. She couldn't turn away from Marte. She had to get this right. Had to. Anna would understand – they had both been on the receiving end of news like this.

But _how_ to get this right?

_Gently,_ Elsa thought, _gently, but directly._

Nothing was worse than the fear mounting, the anticipation, the dread and the hope. She knew that from hard experience.

"Marte …" Elsa crossed to the bed, and, after a moment's hesitation, took Marte's hand in hers. "Marte, I have some bad news to share with you. But it's not as bad as it could be." _Yet._

"What—bad news? What kind of bad news?"

"It's about … your father." Marte's eyes went wide. "There—there was a fire in the stables—"

Marte shrieked.

"He's alive!" Elsa heard herself say. She started to rub Marte's hand. "He's alive. But—but he was hurt. Badly. He's in the infirmary—"

"No!" Marte shouted, and then she was up, upsetting the tray of chocolates and running for the door.

Somehow finding the energy, Elsa stood and started to run after her.

"Elsa, wait!" That was Anna.

"Anna, I can't, I can't leave her alone, it's not right—"

"I _know_ that," Anna replied. "I just want you to wait for me, that's all."

Elsa couldn't thank her with words. She hoped her look would do.

By Anna's grin, it did.

* * *

Together, the three of them sat in the infirmary for hours.

Elsa no idea what the protocol was for relatives waiting in the infirmary itself for news of their relations. She had a feeling the three of them were not supposed to be sitting on a bed, Anna and Elsa flanking Marte and shielding her from anyone who might take issue with her presence. But when the Queen was the one doing it, it was hard to argue with a breach in protocol.

Elsa had never seen Marte look so small. She huddled in herself, shivering and shaking. Every time there was so much as a noise from the room where they had taken Soren, she looked up, eyes wide in both hope and dread.

Elsa couldn't do anything about that. Anna couldn't do anything about that. All they could do was wait.

Finally, the door opened and Doctor Spillum came out.

"Doctor!" Elsa called. She tried to stand up and realized that it might not be the best of ideas. Not that it mattered; she was the Queen and could sit if she pleased.

The Doctor's eyes fell on them and he hurried over. He glanced first at Marte. "You would be Master Njalsen's daughter, I presume? Marte?"

She nodded, swallowing.

"Where's your mother, miss?" he asked, very gently. Elsa felt the cold open up within her as she realized she hadn't even _thought_ of that.

Marte shook her head. "She died, sir. Last year. It's just me and Da now."

"I see. Well, miss, if you will come with me …"

"Sir?" Marte squeaked. She reached blindly to either side, and somehow Elsa and Anna caught the message and each grabbed one of her hands.

Doctor Spillum blinked behind his spectacles. "Ah. Never mind, then." He glanced at Elsa, then at Anna, and finally turned back to Marte. "Miss Marte, I have … mixed news for you."

Elsa heard Marte take a deep breath and hold it.

"Your father is still alive. He was badly burned, and his arm was broken, but we've patched him up. I've also dosed him with laudanum to keep him comfortable."

"K-k-keep him comfortable?" Marte asked. She was trembling. Elsa put her arm around her shoulder without quite thinking her actions through.

"Burns of the type your father sustained are incredibly painful, miss," Doctor Spillum said gently, "If I didn't give him laudanum, he would be in agony."

Marte pressed both of her hands to her mouth and her eyes filled with tears. "S-s-so—he'll be all right then?"

Doctor Spillum sighed. "I don't know."

Silence.

Then, "You don't _know_?" asked Anna.

"Princess, I'm very sorry – but at this stage, there is no way to tell. I have done what I can to help his wounds heal and prevent infection – and Asgard knows I am doing whatever is necessary to keep him comfortable. Beyond that …" Doctor Spillum shook his head. "Miss Marte, as long as your father's wounds are kept free of infection, he has a good chance of survival. But if he should take an infection …"

"He'll die?" Marte whispered.

"It's very likely, yes. I'm sorry."

Marte moaned and buried her head in her hands.

"But remember, Miss Marte …" Doctor Spillum laid a hand on Marte's shoulder and rested it there until she looked up. "Your father survived that fire. He survived a fall from the hayloft. He hasn't developed an infection yet. Now is not the time to despair. Now is the time to have hope."

Marte gulped, but she nodded.

"Now, I have a nurse sitting with him, and there will be someone with him throughout the night. However, I can have a bed moved in there if you want to stay with your father and catch some sleep."

"Oh, sir, I don't think I'd be able to sleep a wink!"

"You'd be surprised," was all Doctor Spillum would reply to that. "Now, shall I have that bed moved in there?"

"Please, sir. Thank you."

"No trouble at all, miss. Now, if you'll come with me …" He helped Marte up, motioning faintly but firmly for Anna and Elsa to stay where they were. Marte was shaking as he led her into the small private room.

Before the door closed behind them, Elsa and Anna were able to hear her shriek, "DA!" Elsa winced.

Then the door shut.

Elsa sagged, leaning forward, her hands on her knees and her head in her hands. Without Marte right here, the thought of _bed_ was more tempting than ever, but she didn't want to go unless she was sure Marte was settled in for the night.

She felt a faint movement in the mattress, a shift, and Anna was fitting into the hollow space where Marte had sat. "Elsa?" she asked.

"Mmm?"

"… What the hell happened?"

Elsa blinked. "The stables caught fire."

"How?"

"… I have no idea."

"Ok …" Anna rubbed her temple. "How come Marte and I didn't know about it? I mean, yeah, ok, we overlook the gardens, not the courtyard, but you'd think we would have heard something."

"They weren't on fire that long. I don't think. Not after people knew about it."

Anna blinked. "They were able to put it out that quickly?"

Elsa hesitated. She ought to have just said "yes" and left it at that. But that would be lying, and lying to Anna stuck in Elsa's throat like an errant fishbone.

"… Elsa?"

She gulped. "I put it out."

Anna's eyes became almost perfect circles as they widened. "You—put it out."

Elsa nodded.

"_How_?"

Elsa lifted her hands.

"That's not—" Anna started. "I mean, I know you used your powers, but …" She grabbed one of Elsa's hands and held it in her own, turning it back and forth and studying it like she'd never seen it before. "Wasn't that dangerous?"

"Perhaps," Elsa admitted. "Everyone else seemed to think so."

"Then why'd you do it?" whispered Anna.

_Because Coco was in there,_ thought Elsa, _because people could have been in there, and because Sven was in there. They could have died. All of them. Coco did die. I had to do something._

She couldn't find the words to say it out loud. Before Anna could prod her again, the door to the infirmary slowly opened.

Elsa and Anna both looked up, but no one was there.

They looked down, and there was Olaf.

"Hi, guys," he said, chewing his lip with his one buck tooth.

"Hey, little buddy!" Anna said with a cheerfulness that wasn't entirely false. "How'd you find us?" She patted the bed next to her.

Olaf didn't answer, but he did hurry over to the bed. He climbed next to Elsa and burrowed under her arm. Elsa responded by hugging him tightly.

She didn't cry. She didn't have the energy to cry. But hugging Olaf let part of her spirit do the sobbing it desperately needed to do.

"I'm sorry about Coco," Olaf said.

"Wait, _what_?" asked Anna.

"Coco," Olaf repeated. "Elsa's magic horse? She told you, didn't she?"

"She told me she _made_ Coco, but she didn't tell me …" Anna stared at Elsa. "Elsa, what happened to Coco?"

Elsa was too busy staring at Olaf to answer. "Olaf … how did you know what happened to Coco?"

"I felt it when she died."

Elsa started to shake. "No." She remembered that fire, the burning, the terror, the feeling of melting from the inside out. And Olaf had felt that? It was bad enough that Coco had felt that, but _Olaf_? Sweet, innocent little Olaf?

"No, no, no, no …"

If she had been any less exhausted, there might have been a blizzard in the infirmary. As it is, short, gasping puffs of snow started to fall around them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Elsa!" Anna hopped off the bed and grabbed her sister's hands. "It's ok. You're ok! I'm sorry about Coco, I really am, but—you're safe. We're all safe right now."

Elsa squeezed her sister's hands and tried to make the shaking stop.

"Elsa?" asked Olaf. He didn't say anything further, just snuggled against her. The cold put off by him and his personal flurry wrapped around her like a warm blanket or the perfect hug.

They sat like that for some time, until Elsa's trembling passed and she could breathe normally again. "S-s-sorry," she said to Anna.

"Don't you _dare_ apologize." Anna wrapped Elsa in a big hug. "You did not do anything wrong. You saved the stables! And the horses! You saved Marte's father! So what if you only remembered to get scared after the fact? You were still the hero of the day!"

_The hero? Me?_

"And now," Anna said in a tone that brooked no argument, "it's time for all good little heroes to get to bed."

"But Marte …"

"I'll stay until Doctor Spillum comes out. Marte will understand. Trust me." Anna put her hand under Elsa's chin and forced her to look up. "She's got you to thank for the fact that her father has a chance."

"I … I guess so …"

"So now you're going to _bed_," Anna repeated. She helped Elsa up. "You can stay in my room if you like. I'll be up as soon as I hear from Doctor Spillum."

Elsa almost sagged in relief. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"Can I stay in your room too?" asked Olaf.

Elsa edged a little closer to him and watched as Anna's gaze went from Olaf to Elsa and back to Olaf again. "Sure you can," Anna replied, "but Elsa, you're sleeping in the middle."

Elsa giggled. She was too tired to even hide her smile behind her hand.

"Now shoo!" said Anna, as she literally shooed them both from the infirmary.

Somehow Elsa, still holding on to Olaf, made it up the winding stairs and into Anna's room. She dispelled her ice-dress with a flick of her fingers and changed into one of Anna's nightgowns. The sleeves and skirt were both too short on her, but the cold had never bothered her anyway.

Finally she climbed into Anna's bed, which had already been turned down for the night. Olaf snuggled next to her.

She should have been asleep before her head hit the pillow. But Olaf had a question. "Elsa, do you think the fire was because of the bad men who don't like you?"

If she had been a bit more awake, she would have asked, _What bad men?_ As it was, she could only mumble, "Olaf, just because someone doesn't like me doesn't make them a bad person."

"… Are you sure about that?"

"Mmm-hmm." Elsa's eyes were falling closed. "Now go to …"

She didn't even finish the sentence before sleep overcame her.

* * *

**As always, I want to thank my wonderful reviewers: Jacob Flores, CrunchDeNumbers, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, RJCA27, and WinterKnight2104. Thank you for all of your kind words!**

**And I have a quick announcement to make: the next update won't be until Sunday evening/Monday evening at the earliest. I'm going out of town for a long weekend to visit family.**

**Thanks for reading, and see you next time!**


	18. Such a Fool

Chapter 18: Such a Fool

Anna didn't let Elsa out of bed until past noon the next day. In truth she didn't have to work very hard. Elsa didn't even stir until eleven o'clock, and when she did try to get up in a panic about the time, it only took one gentle shove from Anna to get her back into bed and back to sleep.

Once Elsa did get up, there were things to be done: she had to eat (Anna didn't let Elsa leave the room until she'd had a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs, and chocolate chip pancakes), she had to let Doctor Spillum look her over (both Anna and the Doctor insisted), and she had to bathe (nobody had to talk her into that). She had to wash her hair three times before the smoky smell finally left. As soon as she was presentable, she had to check on Master Njalsen and Marte. The former was still in his drug-induced sleep, and Marte was sitting by him, pale but still hopeful. Thus far, there was no sign of infection, but Doctor Spillum quietly cautioned her not to assume they were out of the woods yet.

So, with one thing and another, it was nearly three in the afternoon by the time the quasi-emergency meeting of the Council convened.

Elsa's hair was in her favorite French braid (Gerda had helped her with her dressing and her hair this afternoon), and it was still damp when she took her customary seat at the head of the table. "Good afternoon, everyone. I apologize for my tardiness, and for asking you to convene on a Sunday."

She glanced around the table with a serene smile for everyone, though her smile faltered when she saw Captain Olhouser _and_ Captain Vilmarsen sitting side by side at the far end of the table. Wearing identical expressions, no less. Elsa wondered if they realized it.

Madam Voll was the first to speak, looking up from her knitting. "Goodness, Your Majesty, if anyone was entitled to take as long as she liked about getting ready today, it's you! After saving the day and all …"

"It wasn't quite …" Elsa started.

Chancellor Tennfjord coughed. "Your Majesty, have you seen today's paper?"

Elsa shook her head.

The Chancellor drew it from her pile of papers and pushed it to Elsa. "Just read the first article," she said, "and if Master Hummel got any of the facts wrong as concerns you, then we can argue about whether you saved the day or not."

Elsa glanced at the paper. She blanched when she saw the headline.

_LET THE STORM RAGE ON! Queen Elsa Quenches Fire With Bare Hands!_

"But it wasn't …" Elsa whispered as she began to read.

She didn't understand how Master Hummel did it. He got the facts right: the who, the what, the when, the where, and the how (though for the most part, he left the why alone – the cause of the fire was undetermined, and apparently he saw Elsa's motivation as self-evident). But somehow the emphasis was all wrong. He wrote her as a heroine, as Joan of Arc riding up on her white horse to save the day. All she had done was what had needed to be done.

Elsa looked up to see Chancellor Tennfjord watching her over her spectacles. One eyebrow was quirked. "Your Majesty, again: were any of the _facts_ related in that article, as they concern your actions, incorrect?"

Elsa shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

"Then I think we can put that matter to rest. Now, next order of business?"

She gulped, realizing that arguing with her Council or the paper would get her nowhere. She glanced between Treasurer Askelsen, who would have the financial report on the fire, and the two Captains, who …

Why _were_ they here? To report on the cause? But if so … why both …

Elsa swallowed. "Captain Olhouser? Captain Vilmarsen? Am I wrong in assuming that you both have a report to make?"

"It's a joint report, Your Majesty," replied Captain Vilmarsen with no small amount of distaste. Captain Olhouser shot him a dirty look, probably for presuming to speak first.

"Well, gentlemen, I can only imagine that you have had a more tiring night than I have had," Elsa replied. "Perhaps you ought to go first, so that you can both get some rest."

Captain Vilmarsen snorted, and even Captain Olhouser sighed. But it was Captain Vilmarsen was the one who spoke first. He reached into his pocket and pulled out four short metal tubes, each bloated and misshapen, then tossed them onto the table. They hit with a hollow clang.

"We found these in the stables. There were probably more, but gods know it'll take us days to sort through all of the rubble."

Hesitantly, Elsa reached for one of the tubes. A few of the other councilors were doing the same. When Arud did so, he went white and gasped.

Wondering what that was about, Elsa brought the tube closer. Now that she could see it properly, it was easier to tell it was – or at any rate had once been – a bolt, one that would go in a crossbow. She almost dropped it with a shudder.

Except … these were hollow, to say nothing of being completely bent out of shape. _Why hollow?_ Elsa wondered. She looked up. "Captain—or Jarl Casper—"

She stopped. Jarl Casper was stony-faced and silent. "You've already been briefed on this."

He nodded once. "As soon as Captain Vilmarsen and his men realized what they had found, they came to me for confirmation."

"Then … what is this?" asked Elsa.

"A firebolt," he said simply.

Elsa's eyes narrowed. That name sounded familiar …

"Your Majesty, if I may?" He gestured for the bolt; Elsa handed it over. "It's a rather ingenious weapon," he said. "You see, what you do is you fill the bolt with black powder and attach a string dipped in some kind of accelerant to the end. When you fire the bolt from the crossbow, the friction causes a spark, which lights the string. Your bolt lands somewhere flammable, and, well, you wait. After a few seconds, there's a small explosion …"

Elsa's stomach plunged. "Oh gods."

"Of course that's the theory," Jarl Casper went on. "I hear in the field, these things have a failure rate upwards of fifty percent. That's why you need a lot of them in a battle situation. But still, you put a hundred of these into the field, give each man time to fire twice – suddenly your enemy has a hundred different fires to put out." He fingered the bolt, looking at it almost reverentially. "Weselton's army built its reputation on these."

Elsa felt the chill breeze whip through the room. "W-Weselton?"

_No, no, no, no – it can't be – Nick would _never_! And – it doesn't make any sense, not _logically_, why would Weselton do this? What do they gain?_

_But Nick's not the only one in the delegation … and even if Weselton's government is being logical … that doesn't mean all the people are …_

"Now—now hold on, Jarl Casper," Arud stammered, "surely you're not suggesting …"

"Now, hold your horses, Arud, the Queen asked a question." Jarl Casper smirked a little before he turned to Elsa. "Siege of Cailenne, it was. One of the endless wars between Corinthia and Francelle. Weselton entered on the side of Corinthia, sent a few hundred of their crossbowmen to back up the siege. Corinthia's general – what was his name? Can't remember – anyway, he wanted to laugh them off, but all Elof Solberg would say was, 'Wait.' Then, one night, after a dry spell of a week or more, when he knew the enemy's water was running low … he had his crossbowmen ring the city and start firing."

Elsa's jaw fell.

"Cailenne was mostly constructed of wood, except for the stone walls. The crossbows had fantastic range. And at first Cailenne didn't know what hit them. Thought they were just careless fires. By the time they realized they were under attack … it was too late."

"Oh gods …" Elsa murmured, her hand coming over her mouth.

"That was when the world first sat up and took notice of Weselton," Jarl Casper went on with a bit of a smile on his face. "Of course old Solberg had to repeat the trick a few times before his brother could really capitalize on it. But after Solberg turned the tides of more than a few battles, to say nothing of the Corinthia-Francelle war – well, suddenly nations were lining up at the door to sign nonaggression pacts with Weselton, and you can bet the Duke wrung every last trade concession he could out of them."

"Which is why this doesn't make sense," interrupted Minister Falk. "My lord, I've dealt with the Duke for years, and while he's the slimiest weasel who ever lived when it comes to trade, militarily, he's a man of his word. He's never once gone back on a nonaggression pact or even tried to weasel and loophole his way out of it."

"That's because of Solberg," Jarl Casper replied. "A man of honor, he is. As far as he was concerned, his brother could be as shrewd as he liked with his trade agreements, but when Solberg swears something on his sword, he means it."

"But then this makes even less sense!" Minister Falk threw up his hands. "Why would Solberg, now that he's in charge, try to attack Arendelle? And why the _stables_ of all places?"

"I never said he did," Jarl Casper replied. "This," he grabbed the bolt, "this didn't come from Weselton. I'll eat my sword if it did."

For a moment there was shocked silence. Elsa almost thought she could hear the blinking.

Chancellor Tennfjord was the first to speak, or rather sigh. "Then why in the gods' name did we just get the lesson on Weselton and the firebolt, my lord?"

"Well, the Queen looked like she didn't know it," Jarl Casper said mildly. "Not that I'd expect her to. Gods, her own father was scarcely in breeches when all of that happened. And at this point, I doubt Francelle and Corinthia can keep their wars straight."

Elsa bit her lip (to say nothing of her tongue) and rode out the tangent as well as she could.

"Anyway, as I was saying, this didn't come from Weselton. Look at it!" He waved it around again. "You think this came from a Weselton manufactory? Ha! Not a chance!"

Elsa's eyes narrowed. She had seen plenty of examples of goods from a Weselton manufactory. They were neither well-made, durable, nor much to look at. But they were cheap and plentiful, and sometimes that was all that mattered.

"Er, my lord," Elsa said, "if one were to happen to not be an expert in weapons and weaponry … how would one tell that this wasn't from a manufactory?"

Elsa heard a snicker and looked up in some surprise to see Captain Vilmarsen slouching in his seat, his hand over his mouth while his shoulders quaked suspiciously. Captain Olhouser sat up excessively straight, his mouth pursed in a thin line.

Elsa rolled her eyes and turned back to Jarl Casper.

"Well … it's a lot of little things, mostly—Chancellor, do you mind?" he asked as he rose. The Chancellor's eyebrows rose, but after a moment she rolled her eyes and got out of her seat. Jarl Casper sat down.

"Here, Your Majesty – look at the tip first. See how sharp that is? No, don't touch it, don't want you cutting yourself. Now, a Weselton manufactory, they're not going to make it sharp. That's an extra step, you see. These things are meant to explode, so why make them make a clean cut if they hit a person? And look here," he pointed to a place where the explosion had had blown the bolt open, "you can see that there was a slit here. That's so that if the bolt doesn't explode, it might still catch a spark from one of its neighbors. That's easy enough to do for a skilled craftsman, you see, but a manufactory isn't going to manage it. And another—"

"My lord," Elsa interrupted, "I think we understand. So … if it didn't come from Weselton, where did it come from?"

Jarl Casper blinked. "Why, from here. We invented the firebolt, after all."

Elsa's jaw fell. "What."

"Oh, aye, nearly fifty years ago, that would be. One of our more skilled engineers came up with that one. Not an Army engineer – a tinkerer, an artificer working on his own. He tried to sell the design to your grandfather, but your grandfather …" Jarl Casper sighed and shook his head. "Wouldn't buy it. _Banned_ the weapon, actually. He said it was barbaric, especially since he realized that it would be most useful in sieges, where most of the casualties would be civilians."

_He was right!_

"Still, even if he didn't want to use it, he should have bought it. A weapon like this …" Jarl Casper sighed and shook his head. "You'd best place yourself at the right end of it if you don't want to be standing at the wrong end of it."

Put that way, Jarl Casper's point had a sort of unanswerable logic to it.

"So, aye, the inventor – whoever he was – he sold the design to Weselton. They're the ones who put it into practice and who created the manufactories to build it. But the knowledge must have remained here."

Elsa swallowed. "So … it's virtually certain that the weapon in question came from Arendelle?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty. Or so I'd say. Gentlemen?" asked Jarl Casper, glancing at Captain Vilmarsen and Captain Olhouser.

"It would have to be someone local," Captain Vilmarsen said. "We search every blasted ship for those things."

"Why?" asked Elsa.

"Your Majesty … Rosen's made of _wood_."

Elsa winced, realizing she should have thought of that.

"Anyway," Captain Vilmarsen continued. "Those bolts are distinctive, if you know what you're looking for. And the crossbow used to fire them has to be special, too. You could retrofit a standard crossbow if you knew what you were doing, but let's face it, most people don't. So, this was almost certainly made in the city, and probably by someone connected with the original inventor – those plans are a closely held secret, both by Weselton and everyone else who has ever gotten hold of them."

Elsa nodded.

"As for how they did it … Chancellor?"

The Chancellor pushed a map of Rosen Harbor toward Elsa. Captain Vilmarsen got up and came around to her.

"Stables are on this side," he said, pointing to the eastern edge of the castle. "My guess is that whoever set the fire was on a boat here," he pointed to the water. "Those things have a powerful range. And it's not like they have to light the bolts before they fire. They sit back, fire at will, and row out of there before the bells even start to ring."

Elsa stared at the Captain's pointing finger. "And why weren't they seen? They would need some kind of a lantern to navigate, would they not?"

"Yes—no—maybe," Captain Vilmarsen shrugged. "It's not a question of being seen, it's a question of being noticed. Captain Olhouser, he trains his men to look out for obvious threats. Invading fleets, assassins trying to land by the castle walls, that kind of thing." Elsa would have had to have been deaf not to hear the scorn dripping from his voice. "These men … they sail out with one lantern. They fire. They sail back. They're not close enough to land at the castle; they're not big enough to be harbingers of an invasion. So—not worth noticing."

Elsa glanced down the table to find Captain Olhouser flushed and grinding his teeth.

She looked back up at Captain Vilmarsen. "So, Captain, what you are saying was that the fire in the stables was not carelessness and not an accident. It was arson."

"Indeed it was."

"Arson that nearly killed a man."

Captain Vilmarsen looked like he had a smart remark on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. "Aye."

Elsa stared at the map. "Captain, I want whoever did this found and brought to justice."

"Oh, trust me, Your Majesty." Elsa looked up to find Captain Vilmarsen grinning from ear to ear. "My men are _on it_."

* * *

When the orders had been given, when the full report had been heard, and when everyone in the Council knew what had happened with the stables and had their tasks for moving forward, Elsa was left alone in the chamber.

She stayed at the head of the table, looking down the richly carved expanse of it. She wondered if any of the other monarchs who had sat at this table – her father, her grandfather, going all the way back to the first King of Arendelle – had ever felt this way before. Stupid and hopeless.

_I'm such a fool,_ she thought. She wasn't a hero; she knew that, no matter what the paper tried to say or her Council tried to say or Anna tried to say. But somewhere buried under the worry for Soren and the exhaustion had been a faint thrill of pride. She'd used her powers for good, indisputably for good. She'd fixed a problem in a way that no one else could have. And best of all, the problem hadn't been of her making.

So much for that illusion.

The Council had decided, and Captain Vilmarsen had indicated that he agreed, that it was all connected. Cicero, the pamphlets, the snowmen and the vandalism, and now the fire. All of it was aimed squarely at Elsa. Which meant …

_All my fault. Again._

She'd made Coco. She remembered what had happened the last time she used her powers in front of the people, didn't she? Every last sculpture in the Winter Festival, smashed to pieces. Why had she thought Coco would be any different?

She hadn't thought.

Well, there was no time like the present to change that.

She strode over to the honeycomb shelves on the walls, where important papers were stored in case the Council might have need of them. Chancellor Tennfjord's filing was meticulous, and Elsa easily found what she wanted. She grabbed as many of the pamphlets as she could and dumped them on the table.

_Now what?_ she asked herself.

She pushed through the pamphlets, shifting them this way and that like a soothsayer looking through her bone-pile. Maybe something would come to her. Maybe she would see something that would make everything come together.

But all she saw were rows of text interspersed with illustrations designed to degrade and humiliate.

_They hate me,_ Elsa thought. She hadn't heard that voice in her head in quite some time, though it had frequently whispered to her when she was all alone in her room, hiding from herself and from the world. _That's the common thread. They don't care who else they have to hurt or what they have to do. As long as I'm hurt, it's enough._

She squeezed her eyes shut, then pinched the bridge of her nose and forced herself to blink. She didn't have time for self-pity. She needed to think! There had to be something, some clue in all of this that would tell her what kind of men – and possibly women – these were. Maybe it wouldn't give her a name and an address, but surely if she could figure out the type, the rest would fall into place sooner or later.

Elsa stared at the pamphlets. Her eyes fell on one of illustrations. This Elsa was holding an icicle, and as she … used it, she was staring at the viewer coyly, her face a mute invitation for him to join her.

_A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,_ Elsa heard Councilor Omdahl say.

Elsa swept the pamphlets away. A blast of wind escaped from her arm, sending the pamphlets flying through the air in a blizzard of paper.

Elsa started pacing.

What was she going to _do_? Was it too late to try to track down the authors of the pamphlets? No – if it could be done, doubtless Captain Vilmarsen and his men were already doing it. That wouldn't get her anywhere.

But there had to be _something …_

Someone knocked at the door. "Come in," Elsa called over her shoulder. If the guard was even allowing a knock, it was probably one of her Council members. Maybe Madam Voll had forgotten her knitting; she did that sometimes.

She kept pacing, trying above all to _think_.

She heard the door creak open. She heard it stop.

"… Elsa?"

Elsa froze.

_No! Nick!_

And the pamphlets were everywhere—

She spun around. Nick had bent and picked one of them up.

"No, don't! Don't look!"

_I don't want you to see me like that …_

Too late. His jaw had fallen.

Elsa watched his Adam's apple move up and down as he gulped. She couldn't turn away. He managed to bring himself to look away from the pamphlet in his hand first.

"Elsa … are they all …?"

She imagined how she looked to him now, trembling, holding herself close like she was cold. She probably looked nothing like the picture in whatever pamphlet he had been holding.

She nodded.

Nick looked around the room, jaw hanging open. "My gods … _Elsa_ …"

"I don't want to talk about it," Elsa said to the ground. "I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to _think_ about it, and – gods – I never wanted _you_ to know about it—but of course you'd find out!" Elsa laughed, mirthlessly. "I'm such a fool, thinking that you wouldn't find out!"

"What? No, Elsa …" She heard the papers crunch and crackle under his feet as he came closer. And before she could move away, his arms were around her.

Elsa gasped – then she closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. Her arms were pinned between them, so she couldn't hold him back.

In that moment, it almost didn't seem to matter.

"I'm such a fool …" she repeated, mostly to herself.

"You are not," Nick replied.

"Yes, I _am_. I keep trying to do the same thing over and over again, hoping it will solve my problems, and it never does! I keep thinking if I ignore it, pretend it isn't there, it will go away – and it doesn't!" Elsa pulled away enough to look Nick in the eye. "I ignored those pamphlets for weeks, hoping whoever was writing them would stop if he was ignored long enough! And now look what happened! He set fire to the stables!"

Nick's jaw fell and Elsa realized she had said too much. "Nick—Nick, I …"

"That fire was set _deliberately_?"

She couldn't very well start lying or concealing now. She nodded.

"My gods … but …" He stared around at the pamphlets. "How could you have imagined that was coming?"

"I should have," she whispered. "The last time they were—violent—was right after the Winter Festival, right after I …" She lifted her hands. "And yesterday … Coco …"

Nick's eyes went wide, but he nodded, clearly understanding without words.

Elsa closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. So he understood. He'd see what a fool she had been in a moment, though he would probably be too kind to rub her face in it. Besides, Elsa could do that well enough for the both of them.

"Elsa …"

Elsa looked up.

"How could you have seen this coming?" he asked. "It's a long road from smashing ice sculptures to arson. Arson on royal property, no less."

Elsa snorted. "Trust me, if even Olaf put it together long before the investigation did, _I_ should have seen it coming from days away."

"Wait, what?" asked Nick. "You said Olaf—Olaf knew this was related? _Olaf_?"

When Nick put it like that, it did seem difficult to believe. Elsa shrugged. "He asked me last night if …"

_Wait …_

Elsa's eyes narrowed. It was hard to remember, given how muzzy-headed she had been. But Olaf had asked if this had anything to do with … _the bad men who don't like you_.

It wasn't just what he had said either. It was the way he had said it. As if …

_As if he has someone specific in mind …_

Elsa looked up and stared at Nick, her expression frozen in shock. "I think … I think I need to talk to Olaf …"

Nick nodded. "I'll go with you."

She didn't argue. For once, she didn't even want to.

Instead, when Nick silently offered her his arm, she hooked hers through it. Together they left the Council chamber, pamphlets still strewn everywhere. But Elsa wasn't thinking about that.

_Olaf … what do you know … and how in the gods' name did you find it out?_

* * *

Elsa led the way to the courtyard without even thinking about it. She just knew she needed to find Olaf. She did have the sense to stop long enough so Nick's coat could be fetched for him (even as she winced, remembering that she still had his greatcoat, and it still smelled like smoke and horses, and she had no idea how that smell was going to come out). But as they waited, Elsa paced back and forth, snapping her fingers and trying to get her thoughts in some kind of order.

She didn't succeed before Nick got his coat and they went outside.

They saw Olaf almost immediately – even in the winter-frozen courtyard, a talking, gesticulating snowman still stood out. He was by one of the fountains, talking with Kristoff, whose eyes were narrowed as he tried to puzzle out whatever Olaf was trying to tell him. Anna perched on the end of the fountain, her chin on her hand as she watched Kristoff and Olaf, expression thoughtful. Only Sven looked completely content, and Elsa had a feeling the half-eaten carrot he was chewing on was mostly responsible for that.

The smell of smoke still lingered, even though the breeze was picking up. _That blizzard …_ Elsa shook her head; she didn't have time for that.

"… I mean," Kristoff was saying, "yeah, I _get_ that nobody likes a tattletale, but Olaf, the people who treat you in a way that makes you want to tattle on them aren't even worth the time of day. So why not just walk away and let them stew in their own juices?"

"But, but what if that's not _right_?" asked Olaf.

"Olaf, I …" Kristoff turned to Anna. "Why am I the one having this conversation with him, again?"

"Because I asked you to," Anna replied, batting her eyelashes. "Nicely."

"… Can I ask why you asked me to?"

As much as Elsa might have liked to hear the answer to that, she had more important things to worry about. She quickened her steps to the fountain, Nick hurrying with her. "Olaf!"

Olaf turned around. He instantly had on his usual Olaf-grin. "Hi, Elsa! Ooh, hi, Nick!"

Elsa spared a quick smile for Kristoff (who looked relieved) and Anna (who looked even more thoughtful). Then she gently disengaged her arm from Nick's and crouched down at Olaf's level. "Olaf …" she started. She took one of his hands in his. "Were you trying to tell me something last night?"

"I …" Olaf looked down and scratched the ground with one of his feet. "Maybe it wasn't that important …"

"No," Elsa replied. "No, it was important. And I'm sorry that I didn't listen." She could make the excuse that she hadn't been able to put two coherent thoughts together, but now wasn't the time for it. "Please, Olaf … what were you trying to say last night?"

"Well …" Olaf scuffed his foot against the ground again. "I just … Elsa, do you think the fire has anything to do with the bad men who don't like you?"

Elsa heard Anna gasp, and when she looked up, Anna's eyes were wide and Kristoff's jaw had fallen. Even Sven's ears were twitching.

Elsa looked back at Olaf and held his hand a little tighter. "Yes, Olaf. I do think that." More gasps. "In fact, we're sure of it. But we have a problem." She gulped and forced herself to stare into Olaf's wide and trusting eyes. "We don't know who these men are. We don't know their names or where they live. And until we know that, we're not going to be able to stop them from hurting anyone else."

"Oh …" Olaf replied, biting his lower lip.

"But Olaf … since you already knew there were bad men out there who didn't like me …" Elsa took a deep breath and tried to smile in a way that would hide her nervousness. By Olaf's expression, he wasn't buying it. Neither were Anna and Kristoff, and Nick certainly wasn't. "Do you think you could tell us who these bad men are?" Elsa asked.

"Sure," Olaf replied. "They're Knut and Roahl!"

"Wait, _what_?" Anna squeaked.

"Yeah! They're both mean men, and they like to go to the Priest and Fish sometimes!" Olaf replied to Anna, turning his head a full one-eighty degrees so he could see her.

"Olaf," Elsa asked, putting one finger on the back of Olaf's head and gently nudging him back around, "what are their last names?"

Olaf grinned. He put one finger up in the air, like he was going to declaim their names for all to hear.

Then he deflated. "I don't know."

"That's all right," Elsa said. And it _was_ all right. Knut and Roahl were both common names, but at least they had names. And who knew what else Olaf might say?

Elsa looked up at her companions. "I think … I think we all need to go inside. And I think we need to send for Captain Vilmarsen."

Anna was nodding, Kristoff still looked surprised, and when Elsa turned to Nick, he looked grim. But he nodded, too.

"Well … let's go in, then." She straightened, still holding Olaf's hand (and double-checking to make sure his arm was still attached).

Because if there was one thing Elsa was certain about, it was this: she wasn't letting that little snowman out of her sight until he told Captain Vilmarsen everything he knew.

And maybe not even then.

* * *

**As always, thank to you my wonderful reviewers: Batman1809 (yes, sorry about the horse!), bandgeek63, RJCA27, CrunchDeNumbers, and WinterKnight2104 (did you survive?).**

**Also, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, if you are still reading, I hope this chapter made you happy! Ok, so maybe we didn't see Olaf spilling all of his guts, but since we already know everything he knows, what's the point? ;)**

**Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed, and I will see you next time!**


	19. This Swirling Storm Inside

Chapter 19: This Swirling Storm Inside

In the end, it turned out that what Olaf had to say was not as helpful as Elsa had hoped it would be, though she tried not to show that to Olaf. He could give first names. He could describe what this "Knut" and "Roahl" preferred in terms of legwear. He could even give brief character sketches, that one was in banking and the other a washed-up merchant hurt by the embargo with Weselton. Beyond that, however, he could say little else.

Still, Elsa tried to tell herself, it was something. It was better than nothing. But perhaps Captain Vilmarsen said it best as Elsa took the opportunity to walk him to the door, alone save for her guard, after he had heard Olaf's story.

When Kai handed Captain Vilmarsen his coat, the Captain took a cigar out of the pocket and brought it up to his mouth. He at least had the courtesy not to light it. As he fumbled in the other pockets, perhaps for a match, his gaze fell on Elsa's.

Something he saw made him smile a crooked smile. "Don't worry, Your Majesty," he said. "We might be looking for a needle in a haystack, but at least we now know which haystack to look in."

When Elsa forced herself to look at it like that, she felt a flicker of hope. Olaf had made things easier, much easier. The town guards had something to go on. And though she had relatively little to do with the daily governance of Rosen (that was what the gods had made mayors for), she had lived there her whole life, and she knew that this kind of police work was where Captain Vilmarsen excelled.

So Elsa was patient. Just as she had before the stable fire, she soldiered on. True, there were now even more duties. She visited Soren and Marte, for all that the former was still in his drugged sleep as his wounds healed. She met with Treasurer Akselsen and insurance adjustors, the Treasurer having convinced the Council during Elsa's minority to take out fire insurance policies on the castle and all of the outbuildings. She approved Captain Olhouser's increased security measures. She scrutinized every one of Captain Vilmarsen's daily reports, even though most of the reports didn't have much in them of use.

She was so busy that she didn't even have time to attend Hans's trial, or to think about the coming blizzard, until both forced themselves onto her consciousness.

The first came with a note from Mistress Swenhaugen after dinner on Wednesday evening. She informed Elsa that she had wrapped up her case that day and that Master Oveson's part of the trial was due to start the following day. Elsa sighed, knowing that she needed to clear her calendar for the next day to see what would come. When she showed the note to Anna, Anna said she was coming, too. Kristoff had left for an ice-harvesting trip that morning (it took Anna and Elsa's combined insistence to get him to go) and would not be back until Friday evening, so he couldn't attend.

Still, Elsa thought she would feel better to have Anna at her side. Maybe it was foolish, but it was worth thinking.

As for the other, when Elsa and Anna left the castle early Thursday morning, the blizzard was there to greet them.

"Brrr," Anna said, wrapping her cloak closer around her. They climbed into the closed sled. For once Elsa was glad of the shelter; she might be immune to cold, but snowflakes hitting her in the face when tossed by a rising wind stung her just like they stung everyone else.

"You all right, Elsa?" Anna asked as the horses started to move and they headed across the causeway.

"… I suppose," Elsa replied. "I feel better with you being here." She smiled at her younger sister.

"Good." Anna grinned. She shifted closer to Elsa and Elsa shifted closer to her so that they were snuggled together.

"And you? Are you all right?" Elsa asked. "He … he hurt you far worse than he hurt me."

"True, but let us remember, _I_ got to punch him into the fjord," Anna pointed out. "You didn't even get to freeze his feet together or anything."

"Was one little punch really that therapeutic?"

Anna looked up with a pout. She poked Elsa's side. "It was not one _little_ punch."

Remembering the shocked look on Hans's face the minute Anna's fist connected with it and that wholly satisfying splash when he hit the fjord, Elsa realized that Anna had a point.

"Besides, seriously, what kind of defense could Hans put up?" Anna wondered. "Didn't half the town see him try to kill you? Even if it's his word against mine about what happened in the parlor, would anybody on the jury believe that _all those people_ could be lying about what happened on the ice?"

Elsa thought about that. "I don't know."

Anna wrapped an arm around Elsa's shoulder and hugged her. "It'll all be fine. You'll see."

Not for the first time, Elsa wished she could have half of her sister's irrepressible faith.

All too soon, they arrived at the courthouse. They had beaten the crowds, not that Elsa thought there would be much of a crowd today. Even if a blizzard didn't slow Rosen down that much, most people did cut down on unnecessary travel.

However, when Elsa and Anna finally entered the royal box, she could hear a great deal of buzz from the courtroom below. Not as much as there had been on the first day of the trial, but more than she was expecting. Apparently witnessing Hans's trial counted as "necessary travel" for more people than her and Anna.

Anna took the plush and inviting chair to Elsa's right, while Elsa took the throne. It was easy enough for her to reach across and grab Anna's hand, so she did. She couldn't bring herself to care what the guards might think about that.

They waited.

Finally the jury came in, followed by Madam Voll and Hans. Finally the trial began again. And finally Master Oveson stood up to speak.

He walked up to the jury's box, one hand on each of his lapels. He watched the jury. Elsa could only imagine that the jury was watching him back, waiting for one or the other of them to blink.

Finally he spoke. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. I must say, I am sure that all of you were expecting something a little … better than this. After all, at the end of the day, the Crown has very little to show for itself, despite putting on this grand show of a trial."

"Is he _joking_?" Anna hissed, and Elsa could only shrug.

"Let us, for a moment, review the evidence. We have very little physical evidence, and frankly, none of it proves treason or attempted murder. I will explain why shortly," Master Oveson went on. "So let us push that aside. What else does the Crown have? Witnesses. Many, many witnesses. Witnesses lowborn and high, from guards and curiosity-seekers on rooftops and looking out windows to the Queen herself. I will grant the Crown this much: regarding what occurred on the ice, their stories do match. Everyone who was not within earshot of the Queen and Hans of the Southern Isles reports that they saw largely the same thing. And there is a very good reason for this."

Master Oveson's voice dropped, so low that Elsa and Anna both had to lean forward to hear him. "They are telling the truth."

Gasps rang throughout the courtroom, from the worst seats in the back to the royal box. "What's he _doing_?" Anna hissed.

"I don't know," Elsa whispered back, "but I don't like it."

"However, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I would bid you to keep one thing in mind. What this trial is about is not actions. Most of the actions that the witnesses saw and reported to you are not in dispute. What this trial is about is _intent_. For as the Queen herself told us," he nodded to the witness box, "when she told her story, treason is not merely founded upon actions. What makes treason treason is intent. Just as the army officer who reports troop movement to a fellow officer, not realizing the other is a spy, is not guilty of treason, so is Master Hans Westergaard, sometime Prince of the Southern Isles, not guilty of treason.

"Now I know what many of you are thinking. 'How can this be? The witnesses all agree that Hans of the Southern Isles drew his sword upon the Queen! He would have struck her had Princess Anna not intervened.' My answer to you is a question. How can something be illegal – let alone treason – if the Queen asks you to do it?"

Anna gasped. Elsa felt her blood run cold, and the room grew colder with it.

"However, much as I might like to, I cannot speak on this all day. Judge Voll would doubtless grow very impatient with me. So I will now call to the stand the only man who can speak, wholly truthfully and without any chance of error, about Hans of the Southern Isles' intent." Master Oveson turned toward Madam Voll. "Your Honor, the defense calls Master Hans Westergaard to the stand."

As the courtroom burst into frenzied chatter and Madam Voll banged her gavel, Hans slowly climbed down from the dock. He adjusted his cravat and walked in a careful, measured pace to the witness box, where he was sworn in.

With her free hand, Elsa created a small ball of snow to squeeze. She saw Anna's eyes widen. Elsa shot her an apologetic smile. "It helps me to stay calm," she whispered.

She couldn't understand why Anna grinned so widely when she said that.

"Master Westergaard." Master Oveson was speaking, and both sisters turned to look. "Would you please state your full name and date of birth for the record?"

"Certainly. It is Hans Christian Anders …"

Both Elsa and Anna waited as Hans made his way through his other names. "… Westergaard. I was born on the night of October the thirty-first in the year eighteen hundred and seventeen, to King Christian and Queen Anna Marie of the Southern Isles. I am their thirteenth and last living child."

"Very good, very good. Now, I should like to start at the very beginning. Why did you come to Arendelle last July?"

"To represent the Southern Isles in bearing witness to Queen Elsa's coronation."

"Was that your only reason for coming?"

Hans seemed to hesitate. "Well … that was the _official_ reason …"

"Was there an unofficial reason?"

Hans swallowed and stood straighter. "Yes, there was. I will admit it freely. I had also come to Arendelle in search of a wife."

The courtroom rang with gasps.

"Not that I had ever dreamed of looking so high as to the Princess or the Queen!" Hans hurriedly added. "But—well …"

"Please," Master Oveson interrupted, "tell the court why you were looking for a wife."

Hans smiled, a little sheepishly. "Well – one reason was … why every man looks for a wife, I suppose." He laughed, and to Elsa's dismay, she heard a few chuckles from elsewhere in the courtroom. "But I fear the other reason is more serious. I wished to leave the Southern Isles, and having a wife – especially a foreign wife who had lands and properties of her own – would give me the perfect excuse."

"Why would you wish to leave your homeland?" asked Master Oveson.

Hans sighed. "Truthfully, I did not wish to leave. I love the Southern Isles. But … my father's health was failing. My brothers have always been a restive, anxious lot. Not all of them, but most of them want nothing but power. With thirteen of us, there was only so much power to go around …" Hans shook his head. "I feared there would be a bloodbath when my father died. And while, as thirteenth in line to the throne, I was seemingly no threat to anyone, I was popular with the Navy and the people. I feared very much that my support would be sought, and I would not be able to simply stay out of it until the worst was over. And of course, to choose wrong would mean death."

He hung his head. "Perhaps it was a coward's way out. But I could think of no better. My first plan, to ask my father to give me a commission to hunt pirates in the Caribbean, far away from the Southern Isles, had failed. This was my second, and I could not allow it to fail."

"Very well. So you came to Arendelle for Queen Elsa's coronation. What happened next?"

"No sooner had I stepped off my boat than I ran into—or I should say, I was run into by Princess Anna. Quite literally," he chuckled.

"Can you describe how you and Princess Anna met?"

"Certainly. I was riding to the palace to prepare for the coronation. I was still on the docks when, as if from nowhere, this …" Hans's eyes went unfocused and he looked to the royal box.

Elsa had half a mind to get up and block Anna from his view. However, if she had, the scowl Anna was turning on Hans would have probably gone to Elsa.

Hans sighed. "This beautiful young woman comes running from nowhere, carefree and innocent as a bird, and runs straight into my horse. She fell into a rowboat nearby and I had to scramble to help her up before the rowboat fell into the fjord. She …" Hans's gaze went unfocused again, though at least this time he had the sense not to look up at the royal box. "She was utterly charming. Beautiful, and so very innocent and artless. Can you believe, she tried to make _me_ feel better about what had occurred? I didn't even realize she was the Princess until she told me."

Elsa glanced sidelong at Anna. This did match closely to what Anna had told in her testimony, though Anna had certainly not spoken like a lovestruck teenager.

Anna felt her gaze and shrugged. "He's … kind of describing what happened."

"I think," Hans replied, "I was in love – or at the very least infatuated – from that moment. And when I met her at the ball again that night, my feelings only grew stronger."

"Ah, _now_ he's lying," Anna murmured, and Elsa smiled in spite of herself.

"Please, Master Westergaard," Master Oveson asked, "describe in your own words what happened at the ball that night."

"Of course. I found Princess Anna about halfway through the ball. She ran into me again," Hans chuckled, "Well, not literally this time. But she was about to fall, and I caught her, and …"

Elsa sat in stony silence as Hans continued to describe how he and Anna had snuck away during the ball and shared an evening that he described as "magical." Listening to him and not knowing the truth, one would assume that Hans was every bit as head over heels as Anna had been.

Elsa glanced to the side and saw Anna huddled into herself, cheeks bright red and grinding her teeth. "Hey," Elsa whispered.

"He's telling the truth," Anna whispered back. "It's all true. All of it. I mean, except for how he _felt_ about it—"

"I know," Elsa murmured. She squeezed Anna's hand. "It's not your fault that you fell for him. He did everything he could to make you."

Anna looked up to where Hans was still describing, enthusiastically, their evening during the ball. "I just wish I had been smarter."

Elsa swallowed. "And I wish I had been stronger."

Anna managed a small half of a smile. "Well … even if I wasn't as smart as I wanted to be and you weren't as strong as you wanted to be … we did get him in the end."

"Very true," Elsa said with a smile.

They both turned back and listened to Hans's testimony.

"So," Master Oveson was saying. "You passed a wonderful night with the Princess. You were, by your own words, very much in love. How did you seek to end the evening?"

Hans looked a little uncomfortable. "I … asked Princess Anna to marry me. And she accepted."

"Marriage, so soon? Why?"

Hans took a deep breath and spread his hands, looking a little helpless. "I—it's not something I can explain easily. All I can say is that between the moonlight, and the party, and the beautiful girl I had with me … it was crazy, but it felt so _right_."

"Very well. You asked, she accepted. What happened next?"

"We went to ask Queen Elsa for her blessing of the marriage. She …" Hans looked at the royal box, turned those sorrowful green eyes to her. Elsa was almost fooled by the display. "She did not take it well."

"Can you describe what happened in detail?"

"Very well. When Princess Anna and I came back into the ballroom …"

Elsa sighed as she had to listen to this tired old story once again.

But after Hans described how Elsa had run away and Anna had gone tearing after her, she had reason to sit up and pay attention. Of course Hans was going to describe how he led Rosen and organized the relief effort. And he did, with no detail spared. He talked of food, blankets, and firewood distributions. He explained how he organized the Council and the city's government to provide relief. He even talked about how he managed the other ambassadors and dignitaries, keeping them calm and giving them hope.

He painted an admirable portrait of himself, for all that he tried to sound modest. But Elsa brought her hand away from her snowball long enough to start to tap on the armrest of her throne. _Did_ he sound modest? How could anyone, when he relentlessly was expounding on his own accomplishments?

Would the jury see through it? True, Hans had done all that he said he had done, but it wasn't like he'd done it out of pure altruism – or even a desire not to freeze to death or perish at the hands of an angry mob. It was all part of the plan … wasn't it?

Elsa rubbed her forehead, aware for the first time that she wouldn't trade places with one of the jury members for just about anything.

She sat up and paid more attention when Hans described what he did after Anna's horse came back without a rider.

"In hindsight," he was saying, "I should have never allowed the Duke of Weselton's men to accompany me. At the time, I was simply glad to get volunteers. This was a dangerous mission, and I felt there was strength in numbers."

Elsa began to tap the armrest of her throne, wondering where Hans was heading with this.

"So we went up to the North Mountain …"

She listened as he described their trek up the mountain and the fight with Marshmallow. He talked about how he and the rest of the guards ran up the stairs into her ice palace, and he described the scene they found:

"And then when we came into the room, we found Queen Elsa. She …" Hans sighed and shook his head. "I'd never seen a woman look so vicious. One man pinned against the wall with ice spikes, the other being pushed by a wall of ice to a balcony. If we had gotten there a second later …" Hans shuddered, and for once so did Elsa.

"What happened next?" asked Master Oveson.

"I did the only thing I could: I called to Queen Elsa to stop. I tried to appeal to her better nature, to remind her that she could still be a human being. It worked; she stopped using her magic. However …" Hans sighed. "The guard she had pinned with the ice spikes – he hadn't been disarmed. He aimed his crossbow at the Queen. I wasn't able to get to him in time to disarm him, but I was able to deflect the blow. I don't think I'm bragging when I say that my actions saved the Queen's life.

"However, when I deflected the crossbow, the bolt ended up hitting the chandelier, knocking it down. And the Queen was standing right under it. It's a wonder she was only knocked unconscious, not killed."

Master Oveson nodded. "Very well. What happened after the Queen fell unconscious?"

"We had to bring her back to the city," Hans replied. "There was no way we could allow her to remain in the ice palace, for her own safety. So we brought her back, and …" Hans took a deep breath. "I made the decision to put her in the prison."

Gasps all around.

"At the time, it seemed like the best of a slew of bad options," Hans continued. "As much as bringing her to the palace would befit the dignity of a Queen, I was afraid that we could have a mob at any moment. The Duke of Weselton was not the only man who wished to end the winter by any means necessary. Putting her in the prison would alleviate the tension, and even if it didn't, it would make it difficult for any mob to get to her."

Master Oveson nodded. "Were there any other security measures you took?"

Hans gulped, and for once he looked rather shamefaced. "Yes … there was a pair of whole-hand covering shackles in the storeroom. We covered Queen Elsa's hands with them. I remembered that her powers had only gone out of control when her gloves were taken off – I thought, perhaps, adding a pair of new, stronger gloves would bring the Queen's powers back under control. Obviously I was wrong, but – again, it was the best bad option we had."

_The best bad option._ Elsa continued to tap the armrest of the throne. She wondered if any of the jury members would be reminded of her own testimony, when she had told the jury that a Queen was not allowed to make easy decisions.

She wondered if Hans had planned it that way.

"And what happened afterward?"

"I kept a close watch over the Queen, on top of my other duties. Eventually she returned to consciousness. We spoke briefly. She wanted to know why I had returned her to the city. I replied that to do otherwise would be tantamount to allowing those men, or any others who came along, to kill her. And she replied …" Hans stopped, seemingly overcome by emotion, and passed a hand over his eyes. "'_But I'm a danger to Arendelle_.'"

Elsa gasped. The snowball she swiftly tried to squeeze grew a thin coating of ice.

_What's he doing? WHAT IS HE DOING?_

"Elsa?" Anna whispered, and the sound of her voice calmed the sudden storm inside Elsa enough that she could breathe again.

"I should have known even then …" Hans went on, his voice dangerously close to breaking, or so it seemed.

"Ahem. Master Westergaard? Did you and the Queen say anything else of note?"

"I asked her to end the winter, but she replied that she could not. And then …"

Hans described returning to the palace and increasingly frantic discussions with the ambassadors and dignitaries. Then he described Anna's return, ushered in between Kai and Gerda.

"All right, jerk-face," Elsa heard Anna whisper, "what are you going to say about this?"

"Anna, maybe we should—"

"No. No way," Anna whispered. "I am _hearing_ this with my own two ears."

"The Princess kept babbling on about how I had to kiss her. And – at the time I was grateful for this – everyone else left us alone because of it. I made sure to get Anna onto a sofa – she was freezing and her hair was starting to turn white – and I tried to ascertain what had happened to her. She told me that Queen Elsa had frozen her heart, and that in order for her to be cured, she needed True Love's Kiss."

"What did you do then, Master Westergaard?"

"What do you think I did?" Hans smiled. He tried to make it look sad, but all Elsa could picture was the grinning face that looked at her sweet baby sister, promising soup, roast and ice cream at the wedding and gods only knew what else. "I kissed her."

"What that little—" Anna started.

"_Anna_!" Elsa hissed, and that was enough to keep Anna from marching downstairs and slugging Hans again. Their little interlude ended in just enough time for them to hear Hans speak again.

"It didn't work."

The words seemed to hang there, suspended in midair just as Elsa's snowflakes were whenever grief became too much for her to bear. All too soon, Hans started to speak again. "I don't know why. I wish I knew why! Perhaps—perhaps our love simply was not strong enough. Perhaps true love only comes once in a generation, and Princess Anna and I were not that lucky couple. Perhaps … perhaps Princess Anna's heart had already begun to turn to the ice harvester she had met in the mountains …"

Hans finally looked up, taking a deep breath as if to ward off deep, deep grief. "It didn't work. I didn't know what else to do. Princess Anna was distraught. I—I told her to stay where she was. Then I stumbled out of the room and explained to the other ambassadors that the Princess was dying. I said that the Queen must be fetched immediately – it was the only thing I could do for Princess Anna, to ensure that she would be able to see her sister once last time." Hans seemed to pause. "The Duke of Weselton said he would pass along my order to the guards. I insisted on having a hand in bringing the Queen to the castle myself, but the Duke equally insisted that he would do the briefing so I could have a moment to steady my nerves. It seemed easiest, at the time, to let him have his way."

"Very well, Master Westergaard, so you were then going with the guards to bring Queen Elsa back from the prison. Then what happened?"

"When we entered her cell, we found that she had burst open the manacles, blown a hole in the wall, and escaped. Determined not to let her come to harm – or to let Princess Anna die alone – I followed her. A swirling blizzard had leapt up—"

As if on cue, a particularly loud gust of wind slammed into the courthouse, rattling the windows and whistling through any chinks it could find.

"Rather like the one today, in fact," Hans said drily. "In any case, I followed her onto the frozen fjord. I had no idea where she might have gone, but I turned my feet towards the North Mountain, guessing she might be heading where she felt safe. Finally, I was lucky enough to find her."

"Lucky?" Anna hissed. "I guess he was, but—oh, I can't believe he's saying all of this—"

Elsa rested her hand on Anna's knee to silence her. She leaned forward.

"I tried to tell her to stop running. All she would do was ask me to take care of Princess Anna. At that point—"

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut and cringed.

"—I had to tell her that her sister was dying."

_Liar._

"I—I had no choice but to tell her the cause. My only intent was to convince her to come with me, to make some kind of peace with her sister before the end," Hans said, almost sadly, almost sorrowfully. "But she wouldn't listen. She collapsed onto the ice, and the storm around us stopped."

Hans paused. "I—I am sorry. But to tell the rest is … difficult for me. I am not proud of my conduct that day.

"What happened next—I tried to move closer to the Queen, to convince her to come with me. But she said … she said I had to kill her."

The entire courtroom seemed to gasp at once, even Anna, and Elsa thought her heart might stop beating.

"She said it was the only way. That—that like she had said in the prison, she was a danger to Arendelle. She had killed her sister and she didn't deserve to live. But at the same time, she did not want to die at the hands of a mob. She asked me, by the love I held for her sister, to kill her now before that could happen, and then to help Arendelle as well as I could."

Hans paused again. "I didn't know what else to do." In the silence of the courtroom, even his whisper felt as loud as a shout. "So I drew my sword—"

* * *

_The storm swirled around her, snowflakes tearing at her face and hands. She had to run. She had to leave. She had to go someplace into the far, frozen north, where winter reigned always. Maybe she would take her winter with her, maybe she could make her people safe that way._

_She couldn't do it here. _

"_Elsa!"_

_She stopped, hearing the familiar voice. Hans. Anna's fiancé._

"_You can't run from this!"_

_She shook her head. What a fool, couldn't he see? Running was the only thing she could do._

_She turned. She wanted to say all of this, to explain._

_The words wouldn't come._

_She settled for saying what was truly important._

"_Just—take care of my sister." Her breath hitched on the last word, and she took a step back. _Goodbye, Anna—please be safe, please be happy …

Please forget me …

"_Your sister?" Hans's voice rung with disbelief, and she stopped moving. "She returned from the mountain, weak and cold. She said that _you_ froze her heart!"_

"_No," she murmured._

"_I tried to save her," Hans's eyes were wide and his hands extended helplessly, "but it was too late!"_

Too late?

"_Her skin was ice; her hair turned white."_

Anna …

_She looked up at Hans._

_He shook his head slightly. Then he shouted._

"_Your sister is dead!"_

No …

"_Because of you."_

"_No," came the small whisper, almost inaudible in the wind. Her legs turned to jelly beneath her, but she turned away, stumbled forward a step or two._

NOO!

_She fell._

_The storm fell away from her. The wind died. The snowflakes hung in midair, each frozen in place._

_She cared about none of it._

Anna, no … no please … I'm so sorry—Anna—please forgive me—please, I never meant to hurt you—I only wanted to protect you—Anna—

"Do you want to build a snowman?" _whispered the voice of memory—the voice she'd never hear again—_

ANNA!

Shing! _The sound rang through the frozen air._

Anna, take me with you—please—I'll make it up to you, I swear—we can build all the snowmen you want—

No—no, Odin—take me instead—Anna doesn't deserve this, but I do—kinslayer—do what you must to me, but let Anna go—let Anna live—please—

"_No!"_

_She blinked. That voice—she knew that voice—could it be?_

_She turned around—_

"_ANNA!"_

* * *

"_Elsa_!"

Elsa opened her eyes.

She was kneeling, somehow, in the royal box at the courthouse. Anna wasn't dead. Anna wasn't frozen into a grotesque blue statue. Anna was right here, kneeling in front of her. Anna was warm, Anna was breathing. She tried to wrap her arms around her baby sister, but Anna held her at an arm's length.

Elsa's heart cracked in two. "Anna?"

"Elsa, we have to get you out of here." Her normally exuberant sister was whispering. "Elsa, don't look at me like that. I love you, but we have _got_ to get you out of here. Look!"

Elsa looked. There was a slick sheen of ice on the floor. And snow was falling from the ceiling, concentrated on the royal box.

_Oh gods._ She stared at her sister and nodded.

Anna glanced at one of the guards. "Help me!" Together they tried to help Elsa up, not easy as they were both slipping and sliding on the ice.

Below, Elsa heard, as if from a long way off, Master Oveson say, "No further questions. Prosecutor, your witness."

"Thank you, Master Oveson. Master Westergaard, I could not help but notice several inconsistencies in your story …"

The guard and Anna got Elsa to her feet and hurried her toward the door. Elsa took a deep breath and held it, as if holding her breath would hold in her powers.

Somehow it seemed to work. The three of them, the other guard bringing up the rear, managed to get down the stairs without incident. Anna led the way to a back exit, her hand still clutching Elsa's arm, and the four of them tumbled into the howling snowstorm.

As soon as they were outside, Elsa's legs gave out beneath her, and Anna and the guard gently lowered her to the snow.

"It's ok, Elsa," Anna whispered. She wrapped both of her arms around Elsa's shoulders and held her tight. "We're outside now. You can let it go."

Elsa shook her head. With Anna's warmth all around her, there was no snow, no ice, no power to let go of. But there were some tears.

"It's ok, it's ok …" Anna spoke in a soft singsong, rocking Elsa back and forth as if she were a baby. "Everything's ok now."

"I'm so sorry."

"Shhh. It doesn't matter, the past is in the past." Elsa felt Anna look up. "Get the sled; I'm taking my sister home."

"Right away, Your Highness!" Hobnailed boots ran into the distance.

Elsa shook her head again. "No, Anna, you don't understand."

"Yes, I do. You're feeling guilty again. But you shouldn't. It's in the past, and you never meant to hurt me—"

"_No._ Anna." Her memories threatened to rise up and overwhelm her again, one in particular.

_Shing!_

"I heard the sword, Anna."

_Shing!_

_Shing!_

_Shing!_

"Hans was right. He was right. I heard the sword and I didn't do anything. I—I heard the sword and—Anna, I wanted to _die_—"

_Shingshingshingshingshingshingshingshingshingshingshingshingshing!_

"Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait." Anna grabbed Elsa's shoulders and stared into her eyes. "What do you mean, you wanted to die? You didn't—you _couldn't_—"

"I thought I had killed you, Anna! I _had_ killed you! I was …" She laughed bitterly, realizing how foolish this was going to sound. "I was trying to make a bargain with Odin … your life for mine …"

She dared to look up, only to see Anna's eyes narrowed and her gaze slightly off to the side, all signs that her sister was deep in thought. "… Elsa?"

"Y-yes?"

"Would you say …" Anna bit her lip before continuing. "Would you say, maybe, that you were in a bit of a state when Hans told you that I was dead?"

_A bit of a state._ That was what Anna called it when the fear rose up and choked Elsa from the inside, when she could scarcely breathe and her heart hammered in her chest and she was at the most risk of losing control of her powers. "Anna, I was in _quite_ the state when Hans … told me …"

For some reason that made Anna nod. "Elsa, do you remember last October, when that Weselton ambassador tried to chew you out and you had to go full Snow Queen on him?"

Elsa winced. That hadn't been her proudest moment, though it certainly had been effective.

"And a little later, when you had to sign the order kicking him out of the country, and your hand started shaking? You got into a – a bit of a state then."

Slowly, Elsa nodded.

"You knocked the inkpot over and spilled ink all over your dress. You remember that, don't you?"

She most certainly did. That had been her favorite green dress.

"In fact, you specifically _remember_ knocking over the inkpot."

Elsa nodded.

"But at the time, you didn't notice that you had done it, did you? You had a _puddle_ of ink in your lap," Anna went on, "I swear I could have stuck half my pinkie into it. But you didn't notice until we tried to get you out of your chair and the ink started spilling down your skirt. _Ten minutes later_, Elsa."

"Well, yes, but—" she started. And then she stopped.

Because she realized – or thought she realized – what Anna was trying to say.

Anna smiled a little as the look of surprised comprehension dawned on Elsa's face. "You sat with ink in your skirt for ten minutes and didn't notice. You specifically remember knocking over the inkpot, but you didn't realize you did it at the time. Elsa … even if you did hear the sword, even if you remember hearing the sword, are you sure you were able to piece together what the sword meant?"

Elsa could only shake her head. "No … I don't … I don't even remember thinking about the sword."

"Well, there you go," Anna shrugged and smiled. "Hans wasn't right about anything. Not back in there, not out on the fjord. He's just trying to lie to save his own neck. And …" Merry sleigh-bells cut off what Anna had been saying. "Oh look, our ride's here."

Anna and the guard helped Elsa to her feet again, although in truth this time Elsa was much better able to help herself. Anna slung her arm around Elsa's shoulder and gave her a happy squeeze. "Feeling better, sis?"

"Much," Elsa replied, surprised she was telling the truth. "Though if I'm being honest, I could use a hot chocolate once we get home."

"Hear, hear. I'll drink to that."

* * *

**Thank you to my reviewers Batman1809, Jacob Flores, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, bandgeek63, RJCA27, WinterKnight2104 (glad to hear you're back among the living), and CrunchDeNumbers. Also, thank you new reviewer stillslightlynerdy!**

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter; it was a bit of a doozy to write. See you next time!**


	20. There's So Much Fear

Chapter 20: There's So Much Fear

"Queen Elsa!" A voice was calling to her; two hands were on her side and shaking her. "Queen Elsa, you must wake up!"

Elsa's eyes shut tighter. She burrowed into the warmth of feather mattress and pillows, trying to pull the blankets up over her head. "Mmmph."

"Queen Elsa!" The shaking went on. "Your Majesty, this is urgent!"

Slowly, through layers of sleep and dreaming, a flare of recognition went up. Gerda. But why was Gerda trying to wake her? She wasn't late for lessons, was she?

And why was she calling her _Queen_ Elsa? Mama was the Queen, not Elsa …

_Wait …_

"Queen Elsa!"

Elsa's eyes flickered open. She was curled up on her side, facing the window; Gerda was at her back. The sky wasn't even awake yet.

"Queen Elsa." Elsa knew that tone, it was Gerda's I've-lost-all-patience-and-you'll-regret-it-very-soon tone. "Queen Elsa, if you do not open your eyes _this minute_, I shall—I shall take the water from the washbasin and dump it over your head!"

Elsa sat up. "I'm awake, I'm awake!"

She yawned.

"Oh, thank Asgard!" Gerda took a deep breath. "I didn't want to have to spend half the day drying out your mattress!"

Elsa almost laughed, but then another thought managed to make its way through her still half-asleep mind. "Gerda … why are you here?"

The long-suffering housekeeper frowned. "Your Majesty, there's—news."

Elsa's heart began to pound in her ears. "Anna?"

"Still sleeping safe and sound in her bed, don't you worry about that!" Gerda patted Elsa's hand. "Here, let me help you out of bed. I'll get your dressing gown."

"Kristoff?" Elsa asked as she got out bed, trying to figure out where her slippers had gone.

Gerda was halfway through taking Elsa's dressing gown off the hook when she paused. "I … don't know. But—but Captain Vilmarsen only asked for you." After a moment's hesitation, she added, "He's in the blue parlor. Master Gulbrandsen is with him …"

_Master Gulbrandsen? The governor of the prison?_ Elsa stared at Gerda, eyes wide and mind frozen.

Then she came to herself and gestured impatiently for the dressing gown. Gerda put it over her shoulders and Elsa fumbled with the tie. As soon as it was belted around her waist she hurried into the hall.

She realized as soon as her feet hit the carpet in the corridor that she had forgotten her slippers. No matter. She stared down at her feet, concentrated, and a pair of snowy white slippers soon appeared on them.

"Your Majesty …" Gerda started. But as soon as Elsa turned to her, she shook her head. "Never mind."

Together, they hurried down the silent corridors. "What time is it?" Elsa murmured as they neared the stairs.

"Three-thirty, Your Majesty."

"Oh gods."

This was the only time she ever considered sliding down the banisters, but considering the twin demons of tiredness and anxiety biting at her heels, it probably wouldn't be a good idea. She and Gerda hurried down the stairs and into the blue parlor.

Captain Vilmarsen stood by the fireplace, poking at the flaming logs like they were his mortal enemies. Master Gulbrandsen was sitting on the couch, his head buried in his hands. He stood up hurriedly when Elsa arrived, his face a contorted mask of shame and guilt and fear. "Your Majesty—"

But Captain Vilmarsen interrupted. "Nice slippers. You'd better sit down, Your Majesty."

Drawing her dressing gown a little more closely around her shoulders, Elsa forced herself to walk to the nearest armchair and gracefully sit down upon it. "Do either of you gentlemen object if Mistress Hansdatter," she nodded to Gerda, "stays?"

"No, no, of course not, Your Majesty!" Master Gulbrandsen said. He hadn't given his hat to any servant and was instead twisting it around in his hands.

"Thank you," Elsa nodded, taking a deep breath and sitting up a little straighter. Maybe if she portrayed the image of icy regality, neither of the men before her would realize that part of her mind was still frantically blowing away the sleep-induced cobwebs. "I am assuming that you do not have good news, so I would appreciate it if you would simply tell me what it is."

The men exchanged glances. "I think that's your cue, Gulbrandsen."

The prison governor gulped. His hands were shaking. "Your Majesty—you have nothing but my _deepest_ apologies—but about an hour ago …" He gulped. "Hans of the Southern Isles escaped."

Whatever Elsa had been expecting, steeling herself for, it wasn't this.

The temperature of the room plunged, so much that Elsa could see her breath when she next spoke. "What?"

"I am so sorry! You will have my resignation in the morning!" Master Gulbrandsen said, falling to his knees.

Elsa shook her head; she didn't have time for this. "Captain Vilmarsen?" He looked up from stoking the flames. "What happened?"

Captain Vilmarsen sighed. "It was an inside job. Apparently Westergaard," he worked his jaw like he wanted to spit, "had managed to win over one of the guards. Or Westergaard bribed him. In any case, a certain …" Captain Vilmarsen looked at a piece of paper from his pocket. "Constable Matsen went on shift at midnight, and by two in the morning, he was gone and so was Westergaard." Captain Vilmarsen shoved the paper back in his pocket. "I don't think that was a coincidence."

"So we don't know when Hans actually escaped?" Elsa asked.

"The last time he was seen was at ten, for lights-out," Master Gulbrandsen gasped. "We—we assume he must have disappeared between midnight and two, which is when another of my men was making his patrol near Master Westergaard's cell. He looked inside and …"

_Gods damn it._ Elsa took a deep breath, her hands squeezing the armrests of the chair. "Do we know what route he took to escape?"

"There's a back door that the guards use when they want to sneak out for a smoke break," Captain Vilmarsen replied. Master Gulbrandsen winced. "We assume he left through there. It gives out on an alley, and from there … he could go anywhere. With the snow, there are no tracks to follow."

"And no one guards this other entrance to the prison?" Elsa gasped.

"Oh, someone does," Captain Vilmarsen replied. "We found him with a nice little bump on the back of his head, tossed out in the snow and tied up to boot. He said he didn't know what happened, but …" He sighed. "With that kind of head wound, we've got one of three options. One, he was hit in the back of the head before he even realized he was in danger. Two, he realized he was in danger, but he was knocked out before he could do anything about it, and now he doesn't remember it. Three, he's lying, and the goose egg and the trussing up is all for show. As for which is the truth …" Captain Vilmarsen shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Elsa nodded slowly. "Do we have any idea where Hans might have gone?"

"Not at the moment. But my men are searching _every_ ship in the harbor, and if half the merchants in town aren't beating down my door tomorrow, complaining about property damage, I will be sorely disappointed. If he's trying to get out by water, we will find him."

"And if he's not leaving by ship?"

"Right now the gates to the town are shut. Anybody who tries to leave town will be thoroughly searched. This goes for tomorrow morning and every morning until we find the bas—" Captain Vilmarsen bit his tongue.

"By all means, Captain," Elsa replied, "if you want to insult Hans Westergaard, don't fear offending _my_ ears."

The Captain smiled, and somewhat to her surprise, Elsa found herself smiling back. Then she returned to business. "And what other steps are you taking?"

"I've got men watching Oveson's house. We haven't dragged him out of bed yet, but we'll be getting a warrant to search as soon as a judge wakes up."

"And you're planning on interviewing Master Oveson?" Elsa replied.

Captain Vilmarsen nodded.

"I want to be there when you question him."

Captain Vilmarsen's eyebrows went up. "Er … well, that's usually not …"

"Captain," Elsa snapped.

Slowly, the Captain nodded. "If you insist."

"Thank you. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Keep the castle gates closed, Your Majesty," Captain Vilmarsen replied. "If you have to go out in the city, take guards. _Lots_ of guards. Men who wouldn't hesitate to take an arrow for you. And the same goes for Princess Anna. Tell Olhouser to draw up the tightest security plans he can think of, and for the gods' sake, _stick to them_."

Elsa's eyes went wide. "You're … very worried, Captain."

"Your Majesty, I have dealt with men of Westergaard's … type before." She had never seen the Captain look half so serious. Usually there was a light of irony in his eyes, but not now. "If he is not single-mindedly focused on getting out of Arendelle, he'll be single-mindedly focused on getting to you and Princess Anna. We came too damn close to having to bury the both of you last summer; that will _not_ be happening again."

Slowly, Elsa nodded. Her heart was starting to pound, and for once she was glad of the creeping ice that rose inside of her. "Thank you, Captain. I will take your advice."

* * *

"… Anna?"

It was seven-thirty in the morning, and Elsa was for once standing outside Anna's door, knocking and hoping and praying that her sister would let her in. Maybe it was a bit early for this kind of news, but Elsa couldn't let anyone but herself share it with Anna. This seemed like the only way to accomplish that while letting Anna get one last night of unbroken sleep.

Elsa certainly hadn't gotten that. Gerda had tried to get Elsa to go back to bed, saying she wouldn't get anywhere staying up half the night fretting and worrying. She'd made Elsa a cup of soothing chamomile tea and made her drink it in bed to aid in that.

And Elsa had tried. She had really tried. But even with the chamomile, it was difficult to sleep knowing that the man who had left your sister to die and done his best to kill you wasn't safely locked in a prison, but was instead roaming the streets and probably plotting how to tie up his loose ends at this very moment.

At five in the morning, Elsa gave up on trying. She got ready for the day and headed for her study, hoping plowing through some paperwork would put her keyed-up nerves to rest.

She did manage to get through some of the paperwork, mostly the inconsequential sort that only needed to be scanned before being signed. However, even that kind of paperwork took up time, and it was something she could cross off her agenda.

But at seven-thirty, she gave up on even that, and here she was.

"Mmm-hmm?" came the sleepy call from beyond the doorway.

"Anna, it's me—Elsa—can I come in?"

"Oh yeah … sure …"

Elsa opened the door and slipped inside. "Anna, I …"

She stopped. _Of course._ Her sister was still sprawled across the pillows, her hair puffed around her head like a dandelion, eyes blissfully closed and snoring.

If she had any less serious news to convey, Elsa would have conjured a bit of snow and rubbed it in Anna's face – _that_ tended to get her up. As it was, that wouldn't be right. She walked over and shook Anna, now understanding how frustrated Gerda must have felt. "Anna, you have to wake up. I have some—bad news to share with you."

"Bad news? Elsa …" Anna still hadn't opened her eyes, but she did yawn. "You should make that illegal. No bad news before …"

Anna's eyes popped open. She bolted upright and Elsa had to jump out of the way before she got clocked in the head. "Bad news?! Kristoff?"

"No, no! Kristoff's f—" Elsa stopped, could she say Kristoff was fine, with Hans on the loose? "It's not about Kristoff," she said instead.

"Olaf?" Anna gasped.

"No, not Olaf." She had checked on Olaf, since she'd asked him to stay in the old nursery at night. When Elsa had last seen him, he had been playing with their old dolls, giggling and having a great time.

"Kai? Gerda? Oh gods, it's not Marte's father, is it? He didn't—"

"No, no, it's not that. Anna, nobody we care about has been hurt." _Yet_. Elsa slowly sank down on the bed beside her sister. "But …"

"But what?" Anna asked. She reached out, grabbed her sister's hands, and gasped. "Elsa, your hands are _freezing_."

Why didn't that surprise her? Elsa sighed and brushed a few errant wisps of hair out of her face. "It's … Hans."

She watched Anna's lips part and her jaw fall. "What … about Hans?"

Elsa gulped. "Anna … he's escaped."

Anna simply stared. Then, slowly, "… What?"

Elsa took a deep breath. "At—at some point between midnight and two last night, we think that one of the guards in the prison helped Hans to escape. They went out a back door and – Anna, I'm sorry, I don't know anything more than that." She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "But we'll find him. Captain Vilmarsen and his men are good. They'll be searching everywhere in the city to find him."

Anna didn't reply. Elsa dared to open her eyes.

Anna's gaze had gone unfocused and blank. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and her arms were wrapped around them.

Slowly, Elsa reached for her little sister, hesitant, remembering Anna's comment about her hands.

With something that could have been a sob or could have been a gasp, Anna bolted forward and grabbed Elsa around the waist. Elsa hugged her back.

They sat like that for a long time.

* * *

At nine precisely, Elsa stepped out of her sled, right in front of the doors to the town guards' station house. Four palace guards flanked her, two at each side. Looking up at the large doors with a bit of a gulp, Elsa couldn't help but wonder if this was what it looked like when you were arrested and dragged into the station house against your will.

The doors were opened for her and Elsa hurried inside, the guards still surrounding her. When she next looked up, there was a young man standing before her, tall, broad-shouldered and red-haired, with a look of such perpetual good-humor that made you wonder if it couple possibly be genuine. Next to him was a young, blond woman with a wolfish grin.

"Your Majesty," the young man bowed. "I am Lieutenant Ingersen, and this is Sergeant von Westerberg. We're to bring you to Captain Vilmarsen. If you would follow us?"

Elsa nodded. She tried not to twist her hands together as she felt every eye in the place upon her. With a deep breath and a straight back, she followed the Lieutenant and Sergeant, her guards flanking her on all sides.

"Here you are, Your Majesty!" said Lieutenant Ingersen with a wide grin as he opened up one of a series of identical doors.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Ah, Your Majesty." That was Captain Vilmarsen, leaning back in his chair. "Good of you to join us."

Elsa permitted herself a small smile. She looked around the room, wondering where she was supposed to sit. There was a small wooden table with four chairs. One was taken by Captain Vilmarsen, who had a quill, inkwell, and sheaf of cheap paper in front of him; on the other side, the two were taken by Master Oveson and a short, terrified-looking clerk by his side.

Master Oveson's eyes went wide when he saw Elsa, and in spite of everything, Elsa tried to smile.

"Please, Your Majesty, have a seat." Captain Vilmarsen gestured to the seat next to him. With a deep breath, Elsa moved to it and sat down, using the necessary smoothing of her skirts as a pretense to hide her hands under the table.

She glanced at her guards. At her nod, two of them went outside. The other two remained inside, shutting the door.

"All right," Captain Vilmarsen said. Elsa glanced at how he was leaning forward, elbow on the table, staring down Master Oveson. "So you're here. Of your own free will and everything. Now, are you going to cooperate with us the easy way or the hard way?"

"My client—" began the terrified-looking clerk, and Elsa realized with a start that this was Master Oveson's lawyer.

Master Oveson silenced him with a look.

He turned back to Captain Vilmarsen. "I'm perfectly willing to cooperate. But I want three things."

"Do you, now?" Captain Vilmarsen said. "You know, my son says that he wants a real sword all the time. Doesn't mean his mother will let him have one."

Master Oveson didn't rise to the bait. "I will be naming them in reverse order of importance. The first is, of course, full immunity."

Captain Vilmarsen rolled his eyes. "Oveson, I could ask you for your grandmother's name and you'd want full immunity for it."

Master Oveson pressed on. "The second, I want guards. Around my home, around my office, around _me_."

"My son wants a pony, too, you know."

"The third," Master Oveson went on, his hands staring to shake, "and most important – Vilmarsen, _listen to me_ – is I want you to expedite the process for my wife to get out of the city. I do not want her waiting for hours in some line, a sitting—" Master Oveson stopped, pressing his hand to his mouth.

Elsa's eyes widened. And she watched as Captain Vilmarsen slowly, slowly sat up, and slowly, slowly leaned forward.

"Everything she was carrying with her would have to be searched. _Everything_," Captain Vilmarsen replied.

"Of course. Search everything. Search the carriage, her bags, her hat-box! But do it before she gets to the gate. Before she leaves the house!"

"I'd have to have guards on her until she left the city. In the carriage."

"Fine," said Master Oveson.

"And I would need to know where she was going and how long she planned to stay."

"She's going to visit my daughter. On her husband's estate, out in the country. Nearest village is Askselstad. My son-in-law is largely useless, but he breeds dogs. _Big_ dogs." Master Oveson leaned forward, staring Captain Vilmarsen down.

Elsa slowly looked from one man to the other, feeling like a spectator in a tennis match – one who hardly understood the game and knew none of the rules.

Captain Vilmarsen leaned back. He began to tap his nails against the table. "You don't actually know anything, do you?"

Master Oveson stared at him, stony faced. "You won't hear anything from me until I get an answer."

"Fine. As for immunity …" Captain Vilmarsen snorted and rolled his eyes. "We'll see. I make no promises. The guards on you and your house – we're stretched pretty thin, Oveson, and you are not our top priority."

"Perhaps the palace guards—" Elsa began, and hesitated.

Captain Vilmarsen and Master Oveson turned to her.

Elsa took a deep breath and focused on Master Oveson's forehead. "We might—be able to make up some of the shortfall. If your men cannot, Captain Vilmarsen."

She swallowed and glanced sidelong at the Captain. Eyes narrowed, he nodded. "We'll take it under consideration. Now, Oveson, as for Mistress Oveson …"

Master Oveson looked up.

Captain Vilmarsen sighed. "We will be searching everywhere, you understand? _Everywhere_. Your whole house, from attics to cellars."

"Fine," replied Master Oveson. "And my wife?"

The Captain nodded. "You have yourself a deal."

Elsa couldn't help the twinge of guilt that came as Master Oveson sighed in relief.

"So," asked Captain Vilmarsen, "what do you know?"

"About the escape? Nothing at all," Master Oveson shrugged. "I certainly didn't know he was planning it, and if I had, I would have advised against it. By the same token, if he had come to me afterwards, my advice would have been for him to turn himself in."

"Would it really?" Captain Vilmarsen tapped his fingers against the table. "I find that odd, coming from a man who is so desperate to send his wife out of the city, to the home of his useless son-in-law who breeds the very large dogs."

Elsa watched the battle of stares building before her. Master Oveson was the first to blink. "Captain Vilmarsen, the only ethical advice I could give to him would be turn himself in. It's the advice likely to keep him alive the longest."

For some reason this made Captain Vilmarsen snort.

"That being said, am I sure that I would be able to adhere to the highest of ethical standards if put to the test? Frankly, no. So I am endeavoring to avoid being put to that test."

"… Fine," replied Captain Vilmarsen. "So you didn't know anything about the escape. Do you know why would he want to escape?"

"Really, Captain?" Master Oveson rolled his eyes. "He's on trial for his life, and given the way cross went yesterday, I can't say I blame him for taking the opportunity when it presented itself."

Captain Vilmarsen had been dutifully jotting notes down every so often, but something made him stop. Slowly, he looked up at Master Oveson.

Elsa watched Master Oveson's eyes narrow and his brows knit.

"When the opportunity presented itself," Captain Vilmarsen repeated.

Still Master Oveson's eyes remained narrowed.

"You don't think he was planning this," Captain Vilmarsen prodded.

"Captain, I told you I didn't know he was planning—"

"No. This is _different_, and you of all people ought to know that." The Captain slowly sat up. Elsa watched as he honed in on the prey. "It's not that he was planning it and you didn't guess it. You don't think there was a plan. Why not?"

Perhaps the habits of a lifetime of telling clients, "You don't have to answer that," came to the fore. Master Oveson shifted. "Why are you asking me? Gods knows I wouldn't want to know what goes on in that man's—"

Captain Vilmarsen banged his fist on the table, making Elsa and Master Oveson's lawyer both jump. "Because you're all I've got, Oveson! Trust me, if I could be dragging that man's granny, best friend and boss in to tell me what goes on in that head, _I would_. But I _can't_. You're the one who has spent the most time with him since he was sent back, and you and I _both_ know that you're likely to have seen him for what he is if anyone could!"

Master Oveson was silent. The younger lawyer looked between Captain Vilmarsen and his client. "This," he stammered, "this is veering dangerously close to transgressing against attorney-client privilege—"

"We're not in court. I'm not gathering evidence for a case. I'm trying to hunt down a dangerous man who has proven that he's not afraid to kill to achieve his ends."

"And privilege," Master Oveson added, "only counts for crimes that have already been committed. Not crimes in progress."

Captain Vilmarsen grinned. "_Good_ man. Now. Why didn't you think he was planning this?"

Master Oveson didn't answer right away, but even Elsa could tell it was a thoughtful silence, not a defiant silence. "He was … focused," Master Oveson finally said. "Very focused on convincing the jury. If he had an escape plan in the back of his mind … he would not have been so focused."

"Anything else?" Captain Vilmarsen asked.

"He's not a planner," Master Oveson replied. "Not in the way _some of them_ are." Elsa wondered who "them" were; then with a shiver, she realized she might not want to know. "He prefers to … have a general battle plan, then react and manipulate according to changing circumstances. Think of …" Master Oveson stopped, probably because he'd run straight into the wall of privilege.

"Think of last summer," Elsa heard herself say.

All five men – the three at the table and the two guards – turned to look at her.

"I—I can say this," she stammered, perhaps as much to convince herself that she had the courage as to remind the men around her that there was no privilege blocking her from saying what she liked. "Last summer—he knew nothing of my powers, he was as surprised by what happened at the coronation ball as anyone. And I truly believe that he never expected to run into Anna and have her fall for him so quickly. And yet …" She could only shrug. "Look what he did."

"What he almost did," replied Captain Vilmarsen. He scribbled something down on his notepad. Then he looked back at Elsa.

His expression … for once, Elsa believed he thought she wasn't being entirely useless. Like she might be a help and not a hindrance to this interview.

"There is also his naval career to consider," Master Oveson jumped in. "Time and time again, snatching victory from the jaws of defeat—"

"You're getting all of this from him, aren't you?" interrupted Captain Vilmarsen with a raised eyebrow.

Master Oveson scowled. "I also took the liberty of checking some of the back issues of the _Times_. His defeat of the _Jolly Roger_ made international news. Even if some of the details did get lost at sea, it was clear enough that Master Westergaard managed to win by being unpredictable and taking advantage of events as they unfolded."

That was enough to make Captain Vilmarsen sit back, thoughtful.

Finally he spoke. "There's just one problem with all of this."

"And what would that be?" asked Master Oveson.

"Matsen," Captain Vilmarsen replied. "The guard who helped him escape. The man's a born stooge; my men found that out from the other guards at the prison. Yet if he's not Westergaard's stooge …"

Captain Vilmarsen looked around. "Then whose stooge is he?"

* * *

It was past noon by the time Elsa got back to the castle. She should have been back sooner, but the howling blizzard had made what should have been a fifteen-minute drive take twice as long. As nervous as it made her guards to be traveling at such a slow pace, Elsa was glad of the opportunity to sit and concentrate on breathing.

Her reprieve would not last very long.

"Your Majesty," said Kai as he greeted her and helped her with her cloak, "your Council has been here since ten this morning." Elsa winced; she ought to have thought of that. "Shall I tell them that you'll meet with them after lunch?"

"No, no." Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'll meet with them now. Tell Anna—has Anna eaten?"

"I don't believe so, Your Majesty."

"Well, tell her not to wait for me if she's hungry."

She turned to see Kai with knit brows, shaking his head. "Your Majesty, I don't think that's going to happen."

"I … oh …" Elsa closed her eyes, one hand going to her temple, trying to think of a way to juggle Anna and the Council—

"Elsa?"

Elsa looked up with a gasp. Nick. She hadn't seen him at all yesterday, or today. And yet here he was, jogging toward her with that concerned look that was growing all-too-familiar.

"Hello," she murmured, smiling in spite of herself. _Really_ smiling.

Nick's lips twitched, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. With a glance at Kai that was half-apologetic, half-wary, he stepped closer to Elsa. "Are you all right? I heard …"

_Oh, gods._ "Nick …"

"Elsa." He reached for both of her hands, and his eyes widened as he grasped them. "Your hands are freezing …"

"Sorry." She tried to pull them back, but Nick wouldn't let go. Elsa took a deep breath and tried to calm her pounding heart.

"Elsa." Somehow his voice was enough to make her forget about that. "Are you all right?" he asked again.

"I …" She bit her lip. "I can't talk now—I have to meet with my Council—but—will you meet me for lunch?" She smiled as winsomely as she knew how. "Kai can show you the private dining room—can't you, Kai?"

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"I'll be down as soon as I can," Elsa said, turning back to Nick and realizing a little too later that she never gave him a chance to respond to her invitation.

She was lucky enough to have him just smile. "All right. Just …" He squeezed her hands. "Take care of yourself."

_Take care of myself?_ Elsa shook her head; she would ask Anna what that was supposed to mean later. "I will. Thank you."

His smile grew a little crooked. But with one last squeeze, he let go her hands. Elsa had no choice but to hurry away.

Still, she looked back before she left the corridor entirely. And though he smiled as soon as he saw her, Elsa had seen the look on his face beforehand, and he hadn't been smiling.

_Oh gods._ She pushed the thoughts away, down into the bottomless well that was "conceal, don't feel" and tried to steel herself for her meeting with her councilors.

Once outside the door to the chamber, Elsa took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress and patted her hair into place. She flashed a brief embarrassed smile at the guards who accompanied her. Then she turned the knob and went inside.

"Ladies and gentlemen—no, please don't get up," Elsa said. She planned on making her way to the table, calm and collected on the outside. "I apologize for my tardiness, but—"

"Well, it's about _time_!"

Elsa jumped, staring at the man who had spoken: Arud.

His face was red, and Elsa could see the vein at the side of his temple throbbing. She found herself taking a step backward. "Sir—"

"It's about time you showed up!" he snapped. "And started paying attention to your duties! Gods! Where have you been all morning?"

"Stigr!" hissed Chancellor Tennfjord. Even Elsa wanted to take a step back at the barely-banked fury in her eyes.

Arud didn't even bother to look at her. "_Well_?" he demanded of Elsa.

_Defuse,_ whispered the voice of reason in the back of Elsa's mind. _Humor him, calm him down._ "I was at the station house—"

"The _station house_?" Arud repeated. "Gods above! Tell me it was to call that blasted terrier of a police captain off!"

"Arud!" That was Jarl Casper, leaping to his feet. "You forget your place, sir! That is your _Queen_ you are speaking to!"

"I will speak to her as a Queen when she starts acting like a Queen!" Arud fired back. "And not—gallivanting here and there like a foolish little girl! And throwing a temper tantrum," he pointed to the window, "when she doesn't get her way!"

Elsa blinked. She looked at the window, but all she saw was snow.

_Snow. Oh, no. No, no, no, no …_

The snow started to fall, softly now, around her. Elsa could hear her heart pounding in her ears, and it was suddenly very hard to breathe.

"You—you don't think—" Elsa started, but it was hard to continue around her swollen-feeling tongue and dry throat.

"_And she's doing it again!_" Arud shouted. "Look at her!"

"No—no, no, no—" Elsa found herself backing up until she hit the wall and could back up no more. The snow around her was falling harder now.

She didn't dare to look at the rest of her Council. She had seen abject fear on the faces of all of her subjects before and she had no wish to see it again.

Looking at Arud was enough. It was more than enough. It was staring at the Duke of Weselton all over again, with the fear in his eyes replaced only by steely determination to _end this winter._ True, Arud was florid-faced where the Duke was pale, average height where the Duke was short. But there was no mistaking the expression.

"_Sorcery …"_ whispered the Duke in her mind.

Her Council had exploded into activity around her, but to Elsa, it all sounded like it was coming from a long way off. It had to be, otherwise she would have been covering her ears to block out the shouting match surrounding her. Every member of her Council was on their feet, and Madam Voll had even thrown away her knitting, though she kept one needle to use to point to and lecture—someone. Arud? Her?

She could still hear Arud's shouting.

"My gods, don't you see? She's DANGEROUS!" He was pointing at Elsa. "Even without the powers! Once again, she's blowing everything out of proportion!"

"Out of _proportion_?" shouted—someone—the voices were all starting to blur together. And the storm around her was getting stronger. The blizzard swirled, blowing out her hair and plastering her skirts against her legs.

"She is the QUEEN! What the hell is she doing going to the police station? Leave that matter to the police! What more does she need to know—"

"That man almost killed her sister! And her!"

"Allegedly!" Arud fired back.

And suddenly the storm was gone. The argument went on, but all Elsa could hear was the pounding of her heart.

"_Allegedly_?" she asked. "You—you think—"

She stopped. Not because of something she heard. Or even something she saw, like the eyes of every Council member turning to her.

It was something she felt. Something growing. A pressure building in her chest.

"No," Elsa whispered. _No, no, no, no, no—_

She'd only felt pressure like that once before. She'd almost killed Anna thirty seconds later.

"No, no, no!" She stared at her Council. "_Run!_ You need to run! You need to—"

The pressure increased, and Elsa gasped with the force of it. With every panicked beat of her heart, the pressure grew strong. Soon it would all come bursting out of her—

_No!_ There had to be—something—she looked around—

All she saw were Councilors, standing shocked and _not running_, and bookshelves, and walls.

_Walls—_

Elsa flung her hands toward the side wall. She started shooting ice.

The power burst out of her, blue and deadly, only turning to ice when it hit the wall. There it spread like a splash of water, growing wider with every moment.

But the pressure was dissipating. Elsa kept throwing ice at the wall.

Ice. And ice. And more ice. She pushed out power she didn't know she had.

The pressure lessened …

And just when Elsa thought she might pass out from holding her breath, the pressure was gone.

Soon, so was the ice. Elsa stopped throwing it. She stared at the wall for a moment. The plaster was cracked and crumbling, and the ice had forced its way into every available hole and spread.

She found it very difficult to care. Elsa took a deep breath, stumbled forward, reached for something to grab onto that wasn't there, and fell to her knees.

None of her Councilors said a word.

She crouched on all fours on the floor, panting like a dog. Her arms were shaking as they tried to hold her up.

And still nobody said anything.

Then—out of nowhere—there was a knock at the door.

_Tap tap tap-tap tap._

Elsa looked up. "Anna?" she whispered.

"Elsa?" came the voice from outside the door. Without waiting for an answer, she opened it. "Hey, I know this is official Council stuff, but Nick—er, I mean, Ambassador Solberg—anyway, he and I were talking, and—"

Elsa's back was to the door. She managed to turn around in time to see Anna's face grow clouded and confused. "Hey—isn't Elsa with you?"

Nick was just behind Anna. Elsa could just see him. And Nick was more observant than Anna.

Nick saw her. "Elsa!"

Anna looked where he was looking. "Elsa!" She ran forward. "Oh my gods—what happened to—"

She saw the wall and stopped. Then she looked down at Elsa. "Elsa, are you—"

"I—I lost control, Anna." Elsa tried to stand up, though if she was being honest with herself, she had no idea how she would have managed if Nick hadn't dashed forward and caught her under the elbow. "But nobody got hurt this time! … Except the wall …"

"It was an ugly wall anyway!" exclaimed Madam Voll – the first of her Councilors to speak.

Why did that make Elsa want to burst into tears?

But she couldn't. Not while Anna was here, not while her Council was here, and not while Nick was here. She just took a deep breath and focused on keeping her legs straight under her.

She watched Anna look from the Councilors to the wall to Elsa. "Ok, that's _it_," she declared. "Elsa, you are coming with Nick and me, and we are getting lunch. No arguments! Princess's orders! You can deal with the Council …" She flapped her hands in their general direction, "Later!"

"Your Majesty—" Chancellor Tennfjord started.

"And not a word from you, Chancellor!" Anna whirled around. "I don't care how important this business is! But I can guarantee you all that _that_," she pointed to the wall, "didn't happen unless one or more of you was a complete idiot about something!"

Chancellor Tennfjord, perhaps to her credit, only reacted with a raised eyebrow. "Princess, all I was going to suggest was that we postpone this meeting until tomorrow at the earliest."

"… Oh. Well, that's not a bad idea," Anna said.

Then, without a further word, she went to Elsa's other side and wrapped her arm around Elsa's waist. "Come on, sis. Let's get you something to eat."

"Thank you," Elsa murmured. She looked between Anna and Nick. "Both of you."

"What are sisters for?" asked Anna.

And Nick only smiled.

* * *

**Thank you to my reviewers Batman1809, bandgeek63 (who I hope is surviving bank camp), Ryu Kitsune Bard84 with the excellent questions, and CrunchDeNumbers. Special thanks to new reviewer jonmicava112! I hope you like the rest of the story as much as you liked Chapter 1!**


	21. No Escape from the Storm

Chapter 21: No Escape from the Storm

As Elsa realized soon after calming down, refusing to meet with her Council that day solved none of her problems. It only added to them.

Or perhaps she could shift some of the blame for once. After all, she had been unable to meet with her Council because of the state she was in – a state that had been, if not entirely _caused_, then certain exacerbated by Arud. And given what Arud had said and done …

Something would have to be done about Arud.

So as soon as she could escape the watchful eyes of Anna and Nick, she penned a pair of notes, one to Chancellor Tennfjord and one to Madam Voll, asking them to meet with her privately in the morning before the larger Council meeting. When she was in her study, she noticed she had gotten a note from Arud. Even though she opened it with a sinking feeling, what she found was not what she had feared: he was simply asking to be excused from tomorrow's meeting, claiming illness.

_So perhaps he isn't the biggest fool in the kingdom,_ Elsa thought with a faint smile, before putting the note away and leaving her study to find Anna and Nick again.

Still, by seven-thirty the next morning, Elsa was back in her study, occupying her time by looking through a certain file that her father had started and that Elsa had added to over the short years of her reign. At five minutes past eight precisely, a knock came from her study door. "Chancellor Tennfjord and Madam Voll," announced Kai, ushering them in.

Elsa rose, greeted them, and gestured to their seats. There was a tea service sitting on the desk, and she offered both of them a cup of tea. Then she opened her mouth, prepared to start the little speech she had planned out in her head.

She never got that far. Madam Voll's concerned expression stopped her. "How _are_ you, my dear?"

Elsa shut her mouth.

Chancellor Tennfjord, who had been midway through pouring her tea, stopped. She slowly set the teapot back on the silver tray. She glanced sidelong at Madam Voll, then back at Elsa. She took a deep breath.

"It's a quite legitimate question, Your Majesty."

Elsa gulped. "I'm not in—as much danger of losing control as I was yesterday." She had eaten three full meals since then; she had had a full night's sleep, and though the thought of Hans in the city still made her heart start to pound, she could take some comfort in the fact that Captain Vilmarsen was doing everything he could. She had the reports to prove it.

And Kristoff would be home soon. The blizzard was starting to die down, and Elsa had sent a pair of guards to the ice-harvesting camp to ensure that he got back safely. Captain Olhouser had been clearly not happy about losing two of his men, but when Elsa had broached the idea to Captain Vilmarsen before she took her leave of him the day before, he had nodded once with his lips pressed in a thin line. Elsa assumed that meant her idea was a good one.

So, all in all, Elsa was much better than she was yesterday. But for some reason, saying so made Madam Voll and Chancellor Tennfjord exchange worried glances.

"Your Majesty," Chancellor Tennfjord finally said, "that's not what we're worried about."

"_You_ might think you lost control, my dear," Madam Voll added, "but when you think about it, you actually kept a pretty strong handle on things, given the state you were in. Even when you were shooting the ice at the wall—well, you shot it at the wall. Not at that little toad—"

"Lovise," Chancellor Tennfjord interrupted.

"What? Toad is the least bad thing I might have said about him!"

Whatever Elsa was expecting, it wasn't this. She looked from Madam Voll to the Chancellor and back again, her face blank because she had no idea what kind of expression would be appropriate.

Finally, though, Elsa found a voice. "The … little toad would be Councilor Arud?"

"He's still a Councilor?" asked Madam Voll.

Elsa winced. But this was what she had wanted to talk to them about. "I …" She gestured to the file that still lay open on her desk. She'd placed some notes her father hand-wrote on the top. Even though they were dry and sparse, when she read them she imagined her father's voice reading them out loud, and that was a comfort, in a way. "I was looking through Councilor Arud's file, and … well …"

She glanced out the window, because at least the snow couldn't look disappointed when it looked back at her. "I was trying to determine what to do …" she admitted in a small voice.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Madam Voll and Chancellor Tennfjord exchange glances. "Your Majesty … I think, given his conduct yesterday …" Chancellor Tennfjord began.

"I know I have the right to fire him," Elsa replied. That lesson had been drilled into her head since she was a child. She was not permitted to pick her Council; the assembly of nobles chose the ones with offices, like Chancellor Tennfjord and Madam Voll, while the representatives of the provinces were chosen by the provinces. But she could dismiss any member for any reason. There were plenty of kings who had started off their reign by firing every member of their father's Council.

"I could – and perhaps, given his … outburst, I would be encouraging gross insubordination if I did not fire him. But … ladies, I am worried. Arud is … popular in town."

"If the people find out how he tried to browbeat their Queen, I predict he would be a great deal less popular," Madam Voll harrumphed.

"He's popular with the merchants in town," Elsa went on. "With the men and women of business. With ship owners and bankers."

It was the last one that made Chancellor Tennfjord's eyes widen, and Madam Voll stifled a gasp. They both had been briefed on what Olaf had been able to tell.

"So you're afraid that firing him …"

"Would make things worse," Elsa nodded. She hesitated. "Perhaps—perhaps putting short-term unpopularity before long-term stability is not the best of ideas …"

"No, no," Madam Voll said before Chancellor Tennfjord could say anything. "With—with a certain prisoner on the loose, and the pamphlets, and the stable fire—the last thing you need is for anyone else to decide that they have more imaginary grievances against you."

Elsa glanced at her hands. She folded them together and laid them neatly on her lap. "Are they really as imaginary as all that?"

"Yes," said Chancellor Tennfjord in a tone that brooked no argument.

Elsa's eyes widened. But before she could say anything, Chancellor Tennfjord went on.

"However, all the same, the idea of him continuing to serve in the Council at this time is simply unsupportable. So perhaps …" Chancellor Tennfjord leaned back, tapping her chin. "Ah. A leave of absence."

"Oh, yes!" replied Madam Voll. "That'll do it. Put him on an administrative leave of absence! I don't think the story's gotten around yet, so everyone will probably think he got caught stealing from the government."

Chancellor Tennfjord turned a baleful glance at Madam Voll. "What? That's what they'll think!"

"I understand that, Lovise, but you're talking about it as if it were a bonus."

Madam Voll's only reply was to grin.

The Chancellor rolled her eyes. "In any case. Your Majesty, would you like me to draw up a notice?"

"Chancellor, I can handle that—"

"I'd like to," replied Chancellor Tennfjord. "Truly, Your Majesty. The last thing you should be worrying about is the proper wording for this. I shall have one of my clerks draw up the notice for Arud and another brief statement for the press. You need only to sign the former, and then you can stop thinking about Arud until he becomes the most pressing matter on your plate."

"May _that_ day be soon in coming," Madam Voll sighed.

Elsa couldn't find words. She licked her lips and tried to swallow a few times. "Thank—thank you. You didn't—thank you."

Chancellor Tennfjord only smiled. "You are most welcome … my dear."

* * *

Elsa felt much more in command of herself when she finally met with her Council. The fact that she was able to start the meeting without anyone shouting at her helped immeasurably. "Good morning, everyone," as the last Councilor took his seat. "I apologize for the delay in this meeting."

The Bishop's, Jarl Casper's, and Madam Voll's mouths all opened to protest, and those were just the ones Elsa saw immediately. She held up her hand. "As we could all see yesterday, I was not well. I should have realized that I was not in a state for the meeting beforehand and canceled, rather than wasting all of your time. However, that was yesterday, and …" She took a deep breath. "I think it would be best if we got started, don't you?"

There was a series of nods from around the table. Councilor Omdahl spoke first. "Your Majesty …"

Elsa blinked; this had to be the first time she had seen the older woman looking anything less than completely confident and sure of herself. "Yes?"

"What steps have been taken to keep you and the Princess safe?"

"Ah." Elsa swallowed. "As I'm sure you all noted, the gates have been shut." Her Councilors nodded; doubtless they all remembered what a hassle security at the castle had been before the Great Thaw. Now it was swiftly progressing into a nightmare. After all, the castle had triple the number of people in it than it had back then.

"This is a temporary measure," Elsa went on. "As soon as Master Westergaard is back in prison where he belongs, the gates will be opened again."

Somewhat to her surprise, that caused worried glances to be exchanged among her Councilors. It was Councilor Hagebak, the kindly representative of Cajhus, who spoke first. "Your Majesty, are you sure that's wise?" He ran a hand through his brown hair. "There's still the matter of the … dissenters …"

Elsa hesitated. "I know," she finally admitted. "But I think …" She tapped her fingers on the table. "My people need to know that I am here for them. That _I_ am here for them," she repeated. "Not some … heroic prince riding into town out of a fairy tale, here to save the day from the wicked witch." Elsa swallowed, hoping to remove some of the bile that threatened to clog her throat. "The dissenters have been trying since January to convince the people that I am not here for them, that I do not have their best interests at heart. I cannot let them win that battle."

"Do we think it's connected?" asked Councilor Omdahl. "Westergaard and the dissenters?"

Elsa closed her mouth and looked around the table.

Jarl Casper answered. "Well … if anything is likely to be connected … I'd say that is," he answered with a shrug. "Somebody had to convince Matsen to help the man escape."

"And Captain Vilmarsen doesn't think that Ha—that Master Westergaard planned his escape himself," Elsa added.

The silence when she said that was so complete that one could have heard Madam Voll drop a stich, let alone a whole pin.

"It …" Elsa heard her voice growing small and unsure again. "It should have all been in your report …"

Now it was time for several of her Councilors to look around like guilty children. _Oh gods. They didn't read the report._

She decided she would worry about that later. "Jarl Casper, have Captain Vilmarsen and his men found out anything more about Matsen?"

"Ye-es," he said slowly. "I got his latest report as I came here. They found out … Matsen used to be a dockworker."

Elsa felt herself start to blink. _Roahl – a ship's captain._ "A dockworker," she repeated. "Might he have lost his job because of the embargo with Weselton?"

"No, he actually hasn't been on the docks since the fall before last, the fall before Your Majesty's coronation, that is," replied Jarl Casper. "He'd worked at the prison for several winters running. Last spring he asked to stay on, and since an older man had just retired, Master Gulbrandsen hired him. But … according to the other guards, he still went to the dockworkers' and sailors' pubs about half the time."

"So … he kept in touch with all of his old friends," Elsa said slowly, "and probably heard their grievances …"

Jarl Casper nodded.

"I … see," Elsa murmured.

A sudden banging on the table interrupted her reverie. "Every sailor, every dockworker must be questioned!" gasped Councilor Vang. The old man's hands were shaking, and his face was almost as white as his hair. "This—this is becoming perilously close to insurrection! And we cannot risk that! Not after all that has happened elsewhere on the Continent!" He looked around a little wildly. "Are we not in agreement?"

"Captain Vilmarsen has already assured me—" Elsa began.

"I am not talking about _police work_, Your Majesty! Captain Vilmarsen and his men are quite adept at catching scoundrels, thieves, and murderers, but when the taste of rebellion is in the air, you need more than what he and his men can provide! It is essential that every sailor and dockworker is rounded up and questioned until one of them breaks—"

"NO!"

The room grew cold, and every eye in the room turned to Elsa.

"Absolutely not," she whispered. She could see her Councilors' breath hanging in the air and found it difficult to worry about it. "No. I will not become a monster, Councilor, not even to fight a monster."

"A monster? Your Majesty, what on earth—"

"Is it not obvious? You are suggesting that I round up scores of men, plenty of whom are wholly innocent! And _question them until they break_? Councilor, I think we both know what that means, and I will—"

She banged on the table. Ice spread out under her clenched fist.

"Not—"

Bang!

"Have it!"

BANG!

The table had iced over completely.

"That," Elsa whispered, taking a deep breath "that is not how you stop an insurrection, Councilor. That is how you _start_ one."

She glared at the Councilor, daring him to gainsay her. Councilor Vang stared back.

They stayed fix in that battle of wills until they both heard something that made them stop. It was …

… _Clapping?_

Elsa turned to see Chancellor Tennfjord lightly clapping her hands.

"Brava, Your Majesty. I do agree that the course of action Councilor Vang prescribed would be far more likely to cause problems than to solve them," said Chancellor Tennfjord. "However, I must ask you to let the room warm up a bit. I'm afraid my notes have frozen over."

"Oh – oh, I'm so sorry," Elsa replied. She took a deep breath, concentrated on snowball fights with Anna, and within a few moments the Council chamber was ice-free and warm again.

"Thank you, my—Your Majesty. Now, while Councilor Vang's idea is out of the question, I think there are some things we all could do to lessen this crisis. We can trust Captain Vilmarsen to do his job insofar as the criminals are concerned, but regarding the large proportion of our citizens who are _not_ criminals …"

Chancellor Tennfjord went on, and Elsa listened, and slowly but surely, the Council began to get some work done.

* * *

"I mean – with all due respect, Elsa, that Councilor Arud isn't half as popular in town as he thinks he is."

Elsa blinked as she stared at Marte. It had been three days since she had put Arud on a leave of absence and she and her Council had decided what to do next. She hadn't seen or heard from Arud since. And in those three days … well, other than Kristoff coming home and the blizzard ending, nothing much had happened. Soothing statements had been sent to the press; Captain Vilmarsen was investigating; the Council was meeting; negotiations with Weselton went on.

Elsa was also getting a stack of letters every day, filled with questions from concerned citizens. It might have been more efficient to hold a large town-hall style meeting, like Petition Day, but in a rare moment of unity, both Captain Vilmarsen and Captain Olhouser had deemed that plan entirely too risky. So Elsa got the letters, she and Chancellor Tennfjord picked some that were representative of the whole, and both the letters and the replies Elsa wrote to them were printed in the newspaper. It was clunky, but Master Hummel was all-too-willing to cooperate, and it seemed to be getting the job done.

Somehow Elsa still made time each day for Anna and Olaf, and she made sure to see Nick, too. She also found the time to sit with Marte in the infirmary.

Soren's wounds were healing. He had managed to pull through all of this with no sign of infection. Doctor Spillum was slowly starting to wean him off the laudanum. He spent more time of each day awake, and Doctor Spillum had hope that he might make a full recovery. The scars would always be there, but he could live a more-or-less normal life.

But when Elsa sat with Marte, they couldn't always talk about Soren. And she knew Marte needed a distraction. However, it hadn't been Elsa who had brought Arud up.

It had been Marte.

She had the paper neatly folded on a table beside her. Elsa remembered that one of the letters that had made it into the paper had been about Arud's leave of absence. "_Those_ folks," she said, sniffing toward the paper, "might try to pretend that Arud represents us all, but everyone knows he only cares about the people with money. He only got the job because he got all the rich folk to give money to the governor, to help him run for office."

"Indeed," Elsa murmured. Representatives like Arud were not elected by the people directly – they were appointed by the governor the province, then confirmed by the province's legislature. She knew her father had once explored the idea of having the Councilors directly elected by the people, but he had dismissed it as impractical.

Still, this was … interesting. Perhaps Arud wasn't as popular in Rosen as she had feared.

_But he is popular with the merchants, and the bankers, and the ship-captains,_ Elsa reminded herself. _He might be popular with the very people who will set your stables on fire …_

Her gaze went to Soren, sleeping the sleep of the heavily drugged. _People who don't care than an innocent person might be in those stables._

"And—I hope you don't mind me saying this, Your Majesty—but why don't you just fire him after the nasty things he said? Most of us would be cheering to see him gone!"

Elsa rubbed her temple. She had no idea how much Marte knew about what Arud had said. While she had stated only that the reason for Arud's leave of absence was that there were allegations against him that needed investigating, Master Hummel had managed to find a few little birds in the castle that were willing to sing. Elsa supposed she was lucky that all that was printed was that the "alleged reason" for Arud's sudden leave of absence had been "insulting remarks to the Queen."

Still, Marte might know no more than that … or she could know everything.

"It's … complicated," Elsa finally said.

"Oh?" asked Marte.

"I'm … trying to avoid making things worse," Elsa replied. "With … everything." She sighed, wishing she could just tell Marte everything, knowing that she shouldn't. "We have … reason to believe that the people who have been making so much trouble," she glanced toward Soren, "may not take it well if I were to simply fire Councilor Arud."

Marte followed Elsa's gaze. "Oh," she murmured.

"However, when things calm down …" Elsa deliberately let the sentence dangle.

"That's – that's good," Marte whispered. She looked at her father again and shuddered.

Elsa winced. "I'm sorry, Marte, I shouldn't have brought it up. I—"

"No, no, Elsa, it's not your fault that there are … nasty people in the world who do nasty things. Even the best Queen there's ever been can't do anything about that."

"And Asgard knows that isn't me," Elsa chuckled.

Marte turned to her with an expression that began as confused and ended as concerned. "You'll take care of yourself, won't you?"

"I should be saying that to you," Elsa replied.

"I'm not the one with a … particularly nasty person after me," Marte replied.

Elsa shuddered. But Marte didn't apologize for bringing it up.

Finally she was able to answer. "Everyone's doing everything they can. Captain Vilmarsen is this close to asking permission to tear through every house in town," replied Elsa. "He's already searched every house close to the prison, in case Hans was hiding there and terrorizing some poor family. But there's nothing. No trace."

"He's bound to make a mistake sooner or later. He did last time!" Marte said loyally.

Elsa shook her head. Failing to take an animate snowman who could pick locks with his nose into account was not "making a mistake." It was being blindsided by events that no one with an ounce of sanity could have predicted.

But last time, Hans had the advantage of surprise on his side. Last time, he hadn't had a whole police force with their swords sharp and their minds out for blood on his trail. Last time, he'd had everyone fooled until the very last minute. Until he showed his hand to Anna.

Elsa looked up and blinked.

_Until he showed his hand to Anna …_

He could have stayed there with Anna until she had frozen to death. He could have pretended to weep with her and claim he had no idea why the kiss didn't work. Then … all he would have to do is show Anna's frozen body to the people, and the mob would take care of the rest. He could have even pretended to try to stop them if he truly wanted to look like a benevolent, caring ruler.

"He … he did make a mistake, didn't he?" Elsa asked.

"That he did! And he will again, just you wait."

_Yes,_ Elsa thought. Even Hans didn't know everything. Even Hans could miscalculate. Even Hans was bound to mess up, sooner or later, and Captain Vilmarsen and his men would be ready to pounce when he did.

Elsa took a deep breath, grinned and turned to Marte. She was about to thank her, but the chiming of the bells forestalled her.

She sighed. "I need to go get changed for dinner," she admitted.

"That you do," Marte replied.

When Elsa stood, so did Marte. After a moment of awkwardly staring at each other, Marte hesitantly lifted her arms and Elsa just as hesitantly stepped forward. The hug that ensued was hardly one for the record books, but it was a comfort all the same.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Elsa said. "Give your father my best wishes when he wakes up."

Marte chuckled. "He's not going to believe that you were here to see him and me all this time until he sees it for himself." She grinned. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Maybe tomorrow," Elsa agreed, and she left Soren's room.

When Elsa stepped out into the hall, her eyes went wide at the overwhelming smell of boot polish. Then her nose wrinkled. She glanced sidelong at the guard beside her. Yes … that was where the smell was coming from. The man was tall, dark-haired, and too nervous to look at her directly. Oddly though, his boots weren't all that shiny. Perhaps too much polish had the opposite of the intended effect?

Shaking her head, Elsa headed down the corridor, hearing the guard fall into step behind her. Boot polish, button polish – and some of those colognes! – she honestly didn't know which was the worst. Perhaps it was important that her guards look smart, but at some point when the sky wasn't falling, she needed to have a talk with Captain Olhouser about how important it was that the guards did not make the Queen want to gag when she stepped too close to them.

Despite what she had said to Marte, she did not head directly to her room. Nick had agreed to dine with her, Kristoff, and Anna that night, and Elsa was going to try an ice dress. She already had the picture clear in her mind, so it wouldn't take much time to change. Besides, she needed to be alone.

Soon she was standing before the small door that led to the guards' training courtyard. "Wait here," she told the guard standing behind her. He ducked his head and nodded. "I'll only be a few minutes."

Then without a further word, Elsa slipped into the courtyard.

She took a deep breath, feeling the cold seep into her bones. Should she make something? The ice hadn't been as bothersome of late, but it couldn't—

The door behind her opened. "Sir, I said you could—"

"I know what you said, Elsa."

That voice—

Before she could scream, a rough hand was slapped over her mouth and a knife was at her throat. But if her mouth couldn't scream, her mind could.

_HANS!_

* * *

**Thank you to reviewers Jacob Flores, bandgeek63 (hope the ice bucket challenge went well!), RJCA27, CrunchDeNumbers, homers8736, and Batman1809! And thank YOU, for reading the story up to this point!**

**And here is where I have to share some not-so-great news. We have reached The Day of Reckoning, when what I've posted has caught up to what I've written. With any luck I can get Chapter 22 done in time to post it up on Monday, but I can't make any guarantees. And of course, beyond that …**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing, and bear with me as we get through the last third or so of Winter of Discontent!**


	22. You'll Be Safe from Me

**I hope that this chapter was worth the wait and that the suspense didn't ACTUALLY kill any of you.**

**Also, in other (surprising) news, this story has surpassed 10,000 views! Holy cow!**

* * *

Chapter 22: You'll Be Safe from Me

"Now, believe it or not, Elsa," whispered a deceptively smooth voice beside her ear, "I don't actually want to kill you today. But I will if I have to. Don't make me have to.

"And I know what you're thinking," Hans went on, adjusting his grip as Elsa tried to struggle. Somehow he able to hold her with his elbows and arms even while his hands were occupied. His left arm was crushing her breast with a strength that was just shy of painful. "You're doubtless thinking, 'I can freeze him where he stands. I can shove an ice spike into his heart.' And I'm sure you could. But _I_ can slit your throat so," he angled the point of the knife closer to her skin, "very," he pressed, "easily. The question is, who is faster, you or I?

"_And_," Hans whispered, "even if you think it's worth it for you to risk ending your own life to end mine with it—remember that I got in, through the closed gates, through the locked doors. I'm in bloody guard's uniform. If I could do it, so could someone else …"

He leaned closer, if that were possible. The smell of boot polish was nearly overwhelming.

"_And that person could be guarding Anna right now_."

Elsa stopped struggling.

"_Good_ girl," he said, and Elsa couldn't help her shudder. That made him chuckle. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it made her want to vomit.

"Now," Hans went on, "I want to talk to you, and I actually want to hear what you have to say. Which means I need to take my hand off your mouth. Now, when I do that, you will not scream. First, you will be dead if you try. Second, Anna could well end up dead, too. Nod once if you understand."

Elsa hesitated. But a voice of memory whispered in her ear.

"_Don't hurry, Elsa. Don't rush. There is never enough time for you to hurry."_

Her father—he used to say that all the time—

Slowly, carefully, Elsa nodded.

"You are a good girl," Hans crooned like he was talking to his favorite dog. Slowly, he removed his hand from her mouth. He drew his arm and hand down her torso, slowly and carefully, his fingers spread out to touch as much of her as possible. Even with the layers of gloves, gown, corset and chemise that separated them, Elsa could feel the heat on her skin.

His hand finally reached her waist, and he pulled her closer, jerking her near and making her gasp as he cut across her diaphragm.

"Now listen to me very closely, Elsa," he whispered into her hair and into her ear. "You have a problem. I have a problem. We may never be friends – but as people who were so very nearly related by marriage, don't you think it appropriate that we help each other? For Anna's sake if for no one else's."

Elsa didn't answer. _The only help I want to give you for Anna's sake is to make sure your head ends up on a pike!_

Hans let the knife bite against her throat, and Elsa barely stifled a gasp. "Elsa, if the only reply I wanted was terrified silence, I would have never taken my hand off your mouth."

She swallowed, but carefully. _Stall for time._ "What—what did you have in mind?"

"And so very _reasonable_, too. I knew you were the one to negotiate with." Hans adjusted his grip so that he could squeeze her side. "It's very simple, really. I have no further desire to be in Arendelle. And you …" He chuckled. "Did you know that there are men in this city who hate you, Elsa? They hate you more than I did, even when I had my sword raised up above your head. I would have ended your life with one quick, clean stroke. _They_ would make you suffer. Remember that."

"For what purpose?" asked Elsa.

She felt the growl more than heard it, but besides one slight squeeze of her waist, Hans did not react. "Because I'm willing to give you those men. Deliver them right into your pretty, icy little hands, so you can do exactly as you wish with them. Perhaps an ice-sculpture garden would be appropriate."

Elsa shuddered before she could stop herself.

"Or you can hand them over to the hangman if you don't want to remind your people exactly what kind of a monster you are. I don't really care. But if I'm going to hand you a prize like that, I'm going to have a price."

She was expected to reply. "And what price would that be?"

"Not much. Just a ship. A ship of my very own – and of course, it goes without saying that I'd have to be allowed out of the harbor. A crew would be nice, too. Of my own choosing, naturally – not a bunch of Arendelle marines and sailors you pick out to skewer me and throw me overboard at the first opportunity."

"No," Elsa heard herself say, and she instantly regretted it, trying to call the ice before it was too late.

"No? Now why not? Really, I'm not asking for very much … I'm removing two problems from you, aren't I? The problem of those …" He snorted. "They're too pathetic even to be rebels, but they are a thorn in your side. So I get rid of them for you … and I get rid of _me_ for you. I'd be willing to give you my word of honor that Hans Westergaard would never return to Arendelle again, if that's what you wanted."

Not having the courage to say _no_ again, Elsa snorted, "As if I would trust your word."

Hans was silent for a long moment. Then, "What is it you want, Elsa? I can't believe you want to see me swing that badly. If you did, you wouldn't be bothering with this farce of a trial."

She didn't answer. He pressed the knife more firmly against her throat. "Do I need to remind you who is holding the knife here, Elsa?"

_Think, think, think!_

"I'm not giving you a ship," she finally said.

"And why not?"

"You—you were an Admiral." Hans's hand began pressing against her windpipe, and it was hard to speak. "A _good_ one. I—I know what you would do with a ship. You'd be a—terror. No. _No_."

The grip against her windpipe loosened, and Elsa found herself gasping for breath. Hans seemed to be thinking, see-sawing the knife onto top of her throat with every third beat of Elsa's heart.

"Hmm … you don't want the blood of innocents on your hands, is that it? Well … I for one would be willing to negotiate."

_Negotiate?_

"Unfortunately I can't compromise on water passage. I'm sure you can figure out why," Hans continued. "However, I don't need to own the ship. I don't even need to captain it. Just put me on a ship. Give me a hostage, too. It doesn't have to be your precious little sister, and please don't send that horrible mountain man with his stinking reindeer. It doesn't even have to be someone you know or care about. All I need is someone whose throat I can cut if any ship of the Arendelle navy gets within forty leagues of mine. Understood?"

Elsa took a deep breath and didn't answer.

"I'll sweeten the deal for you," Hans went on. "_You_ can pick the destination. Send me to Corinthia or Enchancia. Send me all the way to America. Send me to Agrabah or Tangu! Just _don't_," he pressed the knife, "send me to the Southern Isles." He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "And don't send me to Corona or Andalasia, either. I somehow doubt that any of your cousins would be pleased to see me."

Elsa said nothing.

Before she could understand what he was doing, Hans balled his free hand into a fist and threw it into Elsa's gut. She could only gasp as stars danced in front of her eyes.

"Well?" Hans asked. "Do we have an accord?"

She didn't trust herself to speak. But she did shake her head.

"Elsa," Hans snarled, "I don't want to hurt you. I truly don't. But if I must …"

"How can I trust you?" Elsa asked, stalling again for time.

She felt Hans stiffen. "What?"

"You—you say you have the … dissenters. But how can I trust you? You could be lying. And then I send you away and I get nothing."

He was quiet, and Elsa could practically hear him thinking. "So it's a smart little monster now," he mused. "Continue to show brains like that, and you may someday earn the title of witch. Or maybe even devil …"

Elsa shook, and the air around them grew just a little bit colder.

"_I said none of that,_" Hans hissed, the knife again biting into her flesh. She felt something warm drip down, and she didn't have to bring her fingers up to her neck, even if she could, to know that it was blood.

"Still, you ask a good question," Hans mused as Elsa tried to slow her pounding heart. "How can you trust me?" He tapped his fingers against her middle, each one pressing as far as it could into her flesh. "Ah yes …"

In one fluid motion he lifted her ever-so-slightly, but it was enough that Elsa's feet scrabbled below her for a ground that wasn't there. He whispered, his breath too warm on her ear, making her hair stir. "_Priest and Fish_."

_Oh gods—_

"That's where they met, isn't it? And that information hasn't gone into the papers, has it? There's only one way I'd know that … and that's if your lovely friends told me as much, when they were begging for my assistance. But what can I say, Elsa? At the end of the day, you and I are two of a kind. Royalty. Extraordinarily _gifted_ royalty. Perhaps our gifts led us into inevitable competition … but when it comes to the rabble, we both know where we stand. Don't we?"

Elsa didn't answer. And in that moment they both heard something.

Footsteps.

She felt the fear in the way Hans suddenly tightened his grip on her. Elsa almost smiled. But Hans was having none of that. "You have two days to accept my offer," Hans murmured. "When you want to accept, arrange for a bit of light snowfall around the Priest and Fish. And _only_ the Priest and Fish. I'm sure you can manage it. I'll be waiting, and I'll send instructions."

Elsa could hear her heart pounding, but she forced herself to stay calm. He was giving her time to agree, which meant she could find a way to turn this around.

"Oh—and if you even consider trying to turn this on me, your precious sister won't see her nineteenth birthday. I don't care if it's the last thing I do before I hang, she _will_ die."

Elsa's eyes went wide.

"However, in the meantime, I really have no more time to chat. So I'll be cutting this interview short. Good night, sweet princess."

The knife was gone from her throat, but before Elsa could react, Hans's fist crashed into the back of her skull.

Hans let go of her, and Elsa fell forward on all fours into the snow.

She tried to look up, but she could force her gaze no further up than his waist. Elsa tried to focus, but everything was swaying from side to side. She tried to blink and it swayed more.

"Think about my offer," was the last thing she heard. She watched the black boots retreat into the distance, too hasty for her to focus properly.

That was the last thing she saw before the snow came rushing up to meet her and blackness descended.

* * *

"Guards! Guards! Gods _damn _it, why aren't there any—GUARDS!"

The shouting voice bored into the Elsa's comfortable black haze. She wrinkled her nose. She wished the noise would stop.

"GUARDS!"

The shouting wouldn't stop until she stopped it, would it? Elsa forced her eyes to flicker open. Each one felt weighed down by a brick. She groaned with the effort.

Somewhat to her surprise, that actually made the calling stop, momentarily. Then it started again, a little softer. "Elsa?"

Elsa frowned. She knew that voice … very well …

Finally she forced her eyes open. A dark shape knelt before her. Elsa blinked a couple of times, and it wasn't just a shape anymore. It was a person. It was—

"Nick!" Elsa called, smiling.

Then her memories rushed back. Coming out here—the knife—Hans—

"_Nick_!" Elsa gasped. She grabbed his shoulder and tried to sit up. Her head throbbed with the effort. She wasn't on the ground anymore, someone – Nick? – had moved her to a bench. "He didn't hurt you, did he? Not you too?"

"Whoa, whoa." Nick's hands on her gently pushed her back down again. "Calm down. Not too fast. You—you hit your head when you fell. Or – fainted?"

"No, no. He didn't hurt you? Tell me he didn't hurt you!"

"Who didn't hurt …" Nick's face grew gray. "Elsa, were you attacked?"

"Yes! But that's not—"

Nick swore, and there wasn't even a perfunctory apology forthcoming. He looked from side to side. "We have to get you out of here. Can you walk?"

Elsa grabbed Nick's shoulder again. His coat started to frost over, but he didn't seem to notice. "Did Hans hurt _you_?"

Now Nick's face was white.

"He could have hurt you," Elsa repeated. Why couldn't Nick just answer a simple question? "He—he would have. If he knew—he said he'd kill—"

Elsa's stomach plunged, and her face took on the color of chalk. "ANNA!"

The storm burst out of her all at once.

"Elsa!" Nick took both of her hands in his and held them close. "We have to—we have to get you inside."

"But Anna—"

"Was she out here with you?"

Elsa shook her head and gulped.

Was it her imagination, or was Nick sighing with relief? "Good," he replied. "We can find her in the castle. All right?"

Elsa closed her eyes and tried to _think_ – a feat rendered difficult by the throbbing in her head. Anna hadn't been anywhere near them. If Hans was lying … Anna was fine. If Hans was telling the truth …

Then Elsa needed to get to Anna, _now_, and the place where Anna was most likely to be was inside.

"Very well," she replied. With that decision, the storm abated.

"Do you need any—" Nick started, but was forestalled when Elsa gingerly put her feet on the ground and got up. "All right then."

She winced – the throbbing in her head increased when she stood. But after a moment it went away and Elsa could take a deep breath. "Let's go."

Without asking permission, Nick put an arm around her shoulder as they hurried to the door. Without caring how it looked, Elsa leaned against him.

They didn't find anyone until they turned into the second corridor. There they found a pair of guards who snapped to attention when she and Nick made the turn. "Your Majesty!"

Seeing the lack of guard accompanying her, the shorter guard's eyes went wide. "Your—Your Majesty, is everything …"

The question meant she'd have to think again, and that made her head hurt. "Find Anna—Princess Anna. Dismiss—" Was that wise? What if these guards were the traitors? What if that had been Hans's plan: let Elsa go and have Elsa herself deliver her sister into the jaws of the lion?

The effort of trying to untangle Hans's plot made her wince. "Never mind. I'll find her myself—"

"Elsa." Nick's hand had migrated to her elbow. He stood in front of her, looking into her eyes. Elsa wondered if he knew how much his hand was trembling. "When—when I found you, you were lying down in the snow. Do you know—do you remember why that was?"

"Hans hit me on the head. But that's not important—"

"HANS?" shouted the taller guard.

"Hans _Westergaard_?" echoed the shorter.

"Yes. But that's—"

The two exchanged glances; then the taller ran off, shouting, "BREACH! The castle is under attack!"

That was when all hell broke loose.

Apparently the tall guard knew the magic word that would call the guards to them. Plenty of guards. No sooner had Elsa blinked then at least ten of them spilled into the corridor, some with their hands on their sheathed swords, others brandishing pikes, and still more with swords half out of the sheaths. Elsa took a half-step back when she saw the candlelight flash off the steel.

But she couldn't panic or lose control. Not now. She had to find Anna first.

But the guards pressed on her, coming closer, surrounding her and tossing out questions. Questions like, "What happened?" "Which way did he go, Your Majesty?" "Are you hurt?" "Was it Westergaard?" "How did he get in?"

Elsa took a deep breath and held it, because she could feel the panic rising and she _did not have time for this_—

"QUIET!" shouted Nick.

For a moment – one blessed, glorious moment – all of the guards fell silent.

That moment was all Nick needed. "The Queen was attacked by Hans Westergaard not long ago. He hit her on the head, and she needs to see a doctor. He also made some … threats … I believe, concerning Princess Anna. We need to get the Queen to the infirmary, and we need to find Princess Anna …" Nick thought a moment. "And we need to find Kristoff Bjorgman and the snowman Olaf, too. Is that understood?"

The guards gaped at him.

Nick sighed. Then he started pointing. "You—find Princess Anna. You, find Master Bjorgman. You, find Olaf. Bring them all to the infirmary. You two, find Captain Olhouser and bring _him_ to the infirmary. The rest of you, accompany the Queen and me."

For a beat they continued to stare at Nick, jaws hanging open. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "What are you waiting for? Move!"

They moved.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, the part that wasn't screeching for Anna was faintly impressed. _I need to learn how to do that …_

"You all right, Elsa?" Nick whispered.

Elsa looked up. She took a deep breath. "I … I don't know … I'll be better once I see Anna."

"And once you get that head of yours looked at," Nick said. She couldn't help but notice how he craned his neck, trying to see where Hans must have hit her.

Elsa winced as the injury sent out a throb, just so she wouldn't forget it was there. "That too." She rubbed her temple and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then she looked around at their escort, half-a-dozen guards strong. "Let's go."

They went.

* * *

Two hours later, Elsa was back in her bedroom, and an argument was in progress.

She wondered how she was being so patient with it all. Not so much Dr. Spillum's ministrations, because she remembered how panicky he had been when he heard she got hit on the head with the chandelier. The words, "You could have died!" and "How were you not killed?" were repeated with enough frequency to give more Elsa more than enough patience to listen to what he had to say now and follow his instructions. Even if he _had_ taken away her chocolate.

Dealing with Gerda's fussing wasn't hard, either. Since Elsa wasn't going to bed until this argument resolved itself, Gerda insisted she sit quiet and comfortable in a big armchair chair. Elsa had come up with the idea to make a pillow of the same fabric of her ice dress and stuff it full of snow – it worked wonders for the back of her head. But Gerda had clucked her tongue and insisted that she have two fur blankets tucked around her to compensate. As soon as Gerda left the room, Elsa frosted the underside of the lower one, and they were both happy.

But if Elsa was being honest with herself, the reason why she was so patient was probably because Anna was perched on the armrest of the chair, leaning against Elsa's shoulder, whole and sound and as happy as could reasonably be expected. She had been guarded all afternoon by a man Captain Olhouser vouched for personally. Hans hadn't been near her, and as far as any of them could determine, his threat that Anna would be dead if Elsa cried out was a bluff.

Of course, given that they still hadn't figured out how Hans got in … perhaps that shouldn't be as reassuring as Elsa was making it out to be.

Anna reached for Elsa's hand under the blanket and patted it. The two of them watched the argument go on. "Have you ever seen Kai get that angry before?" Anna asked.

The faithful retainer was red-faced and letting Captain Olhouser exactly what he thought of his "security protocols" and the men who carried them out. Elsa looked up at Anna and shook her head. "Never. You?"

"Once or twice," Anna admitted.

Elsa's eyes narrowed. It hurt to think, but she had to ask. "Was he that angry at _you_?"

Anna's lips pursed together and she wouldn't meet Elsa's eyes. "… Maybe …"

Elsa giggled. _That blow must have addled my wits!_ How could she be giggling at a time like this? But she found it rather difficult to worry – if she tried, her head throbbed again.

She leaned back against the pillow, her eyes half-lidded and her mind wanting to wander. Anna poked her shoulder. "You should be resting."

"I can't. Not until we get all of … this sorted." She glanced up. "If you want to get dinner with Kristoff and Nick …"

"Are you kidding? I'm not leaving until I'm sure you're ok." Anna paused. "So you'd better get used to me, because I'm not leaving your side for at _least_ a week."

Elsa chuckled. "I'd like nothing better."

"I'll remind you of that this time next week," Anna replied. Then for a moment both sisters were silent, listening as Captain Olhouser detailed every reason why Kai should concern himself with his wine list, the servants of the castle, and his lunch before he poked his nose into Captain Olhouser's security protocols.

"Shall we liven up this entertainment with a little wager?" asked Anna.

Elsa blinked. "A … wager?"

"Sure. Let's say, I bet you ten silver pieces that Kai will punch Captain Olhouser first. Fifteen if he knocks him out cold."

"_Anna_!" Elsa shook her head and winced. This had gone on long enough. She managed to fight one hand loose from the blankets and snapped her fingers.

Gentle snow began to fall from just above Kai's and Captain Olhouser's heads. They didn't appear to notice.

"I think you're going to have to be a _little_ more forceful than that," said Anna.

Elsa snapped her fingers again. This time, six inches of snow dumped themselves onto Captain Olhouser and Kai. That got their attention.

Coughing and sputtering and shivering, both men stopped arguing for long enough for Elsa to interject. "Gentlemen," she said. "The doctor said I need to rest. However, I fear I _cannot_ rest until I know how exactly Hans got here and what you plan to do to prevent this from happening in the future."

In answer, Kai glared at Captain Olhouser. Captain Olhouser glared back.

"Security in the servant hall is _entirely_ too lax," he growled. "Anyone can get in if they claim to have a delivery for one of the servants!"

"Do you have any idea how many people I have working in this castle?" Kai snapped. "People get packages from their mothers or sweethearts all the time!"

"And how do you ensure that the facilities are secure when these packages are delivered? Hmm?"

"That," said Kai with a grin that could only be called wicked, "is _your_ job."

"Ahem." Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Gentlemen, please. Simply explain what happened with a minimum of argument."

"Ah. Well, as you know, Your Majesty, as soon as we were informed of your … injuries, the entire castle was placed on lockdown."

Actually, Elsa hadn't known that, seeing as Doctor Spillum had been treating her for a concussion at the time. But it did explain why Kristoff and Olaf both looked so annoyed when they were finally escorted into the infirmary. Well, Kristoff looked annoyed. Olaf just looked worried.

She wished she could have the little guy in here with her now, but she needed to rest, and Nick had volunteered to show Olaf his telescope to keep his mind off things.

"While the castle was on lockdown, we were able to complete a room-to-room search – cellars to attics, top to bottom!" Captain Olhouser said a little proudly. "In fact, the search is still ongoing. But—we found very quickly one of our men, Sergeant Esbensen, locked in a supply closet in a state of … undress."

"Who was in there with him?" Anna asked.

"_Anna_!" Elsa gasped.

"What? Why else would he be in a supply closet with no clothes on?"

"Er," Captain Olhouser interrupted, blushing to the tips of his ears, "nobody—there was nobody in there with him. We—he told his story. He was doing gate duty when Westergaard came to the palace and said he had a package for one of the servants. Sergeant Esbensen was escorting him to the servants' hall when Hans overpowered him, shoved him in the supply closet, and—"

"Stole his uniform," Elsa finished for him.

Captain Olhouser nodded.

"Oh," Anna murmured. "Well, in my defense, it does happen my way, like, ninety percent of the rest of the time."

"Perhaps, Your Highness," Captain Olhouser agreed, lips pursed together. "We … found something curious in the supply closet, Your Majesty. Perhaps … you were the one with Westergaard. Perhaps you could shed some light on it?"

Elsa narrowed her eyes. "I can … try …"

In answer, Captain Olhouser took a scrunched-up cap out of his pocket. "Don't touch it," he said. "Just in case. But …" He showed her the cap from all angles, carefully handling it in his gloved hands.

Elsa frowned, and Anna leaned forward. The cap was, for all intents and purposes, the average working man's cap. There were probably dozens like it in secondhand shops all over the city.

Then Captain Olhouser turned the cap over, and Elsa gasped when she saw what was so curious about the cap. "That," she pointed to the line of black around the brim of the cap, not touching it. "That's boot polish, isn't it?"

"Certainly smells like it," Captain Olhouser agreed.

"Hans—Hans smelled like boot polish," Elsa replied. "I—I noticed that about him first. And his hair was dark."

"Did he have sideburns?" asked Captain Olhouser.

Elsa hesitated. "I … didn't notice any when I first saw him. And afterward … he grabbed me from behind, and I never had a good look at his face."

"Sergeant Esbensen swears that Westergaard didn't have sideburns," Captain Olhouser nodded. "We shall have to notify Captain Vilmarsen to update the description he's given to his men."

Elsa wrinkled her nose. "I don't want this story getting out to the press."

"Your Majesty?"

"I don't want the press to know what happened. _No one_ is to know what happened who does not absolutely need to know what happened. Am I clear?" she asked, looking from Kai to Captain Olhouser and back again.

Both men nodded, Kai much more vigorously than Captain Olhouser.

"Thank you. And how do you plan on securing the castle henceforth?" she asked, looking from Kai to the Captain.

"Obviously, no delivery person will be allowed into the castle again," replied Captain Olhouser, sniffing. "The servants will simply have to pick up their own packages at the gate."

Elsa nodded, and then she winced.

"Your Majesty, perhaps it is best if we leave you to rest," Kai interjected. "There's surely nothing else you have to tell her, is there, Captain?"

If Captain Olhouser did not hear the unspoken, _There had better not be_, at the end of that, then he was even more obtuse than Captain Vilmarsen ever accused him of being. But his sigh left that question up in the air. "It would be better if we had a guard in here …"

Elsa bolted upright in the chair, the armrest icing over under her grip. "Captain, if you think for one moment I am going to rest if I have a strange man in this room, watching every move I make …"

"Besides, she's got me," Anna added. "And Gerda is going to be checking up every ten minutes."

"Doctor Spillum said every hour."

"Like that's going to be good enough for Gerda."

Judging by Kai's very pinched lips and the merriment peeking through his eyes, Elsa suspected she would lose this argument, so she refrained from pressing her point.

Captain Olhouser, however, seemed not to notice. "It would be best if you and the Princess were not together for extended periods of—"

"No," Elsa interrupted.

"Your Majesty, surely you understand the—"

"No. No. Absolutely not. I spent _thirteen years_ shutting myself away from Anna, trying to protect her. Do I need to go into detail about how that did not at all work?"

"And can I mention that she can shoot ice from her fingers?" asked Anna, pointing to Elsa. "The only reason why Hans was able to keep her from doing it is because he tricked her into thinking that I might be in danger. If she can see that I _am_ in danger …"

Captain Olhouser's mustache twitched as he looked from one sister to the other. He sighed. "I shall be posting half-a-dozen guards outside your door. Only Mistress Hansdatter will be allowed inside. Princess Anna, if you hear any disturbance outside, I want you to bolt the both of you inside until help arrives. Do I make myself clear?"

Thankfully, Anna only nodded. Captain Olhouser clicked his heels together, bowed, and exited. Kai only stayed a few more minutes.

"I shall have Gerda bring up dinner for you, Princess. Your Majesty, I understand Doctor Spillum said …"

"No food until tomorrow morning. I know," Elsa sighed. "Could you ask Gerda to bring up her headache tea? Doctor Spillum said that will be all right."

"Of course, Your Majesty. Rest well—both of you."

Kai bowed and made his exit. Elsa sighed, closed her eyes, and leaned back into her ice pillow.

She heard Anna's foot lightly brushing the side of the chair as she swung it back and forth. "So," Anna said musingly.

"Hmm?" Elsa asked, not opening up her eyes.

"What exactly did Hans say to you?"

Elsa's eyes flew open.

"Don't think I'm dumb," Anna went on, her eyebrows waggling. "I noticed how you changed the subject whenever somebody started to ask what Hans wanted. Like asking Doctor Spillum to have a look at the cut on your throat. Or wincing like your head hurt."

Elsa winced, although in this case it was her pride hurting more than her head. "I was that transparent?"

"Only to somebody who knows you well – and you know, nobody was going to press you, what with …" Anna gulped. "Everything." She somehow managed to sandwich her arm between the chair and Elsa to give her an awkward side hug. "Are you ok?"

"I got a lot better when I saw that you were ok."

"Hans didn't get within a hundred yards of me."

"Still."

Anna hugged Elsa again. She leaned against Elsa, and the two of them watched the play of the flames in the fireplace for a few moments.

Finally Anna sighed. "Seriously, Elsa … what did he want?"

Elsa watched the flames. Finally, she swallowed. "You can't tell anyone. _Anyone_. Not Kristoff, not Britta, not even your Elsa doll."

"Hey! I haven't talked to my Elsa doll in years and years!"

Elsa turned to Anna with a raised eyebrow.

"… Ok, maybe more like three years, but still!"

"Thank you. And you can't tell the Council."

"… All right," Anna replied.

Elsa nodded once and took a deep breath. "He wanted to make a … trade. His freedom for the … dissidents."

Anna didn't answer at once. Elsa heard her gasp. She watched as Anna's eyes slid off to the side, her brows furrowed.

Anna swallowed. "Are you going to do it?"

Elsa sighed. "I don't know."

* * *

**Once again, I want to thank all of my amazing reviewers: WinterKnight2104, bandgeek63, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, Jacob Flores, homers8736, CrunchDeNumbers, and RJCA27. Thanks and welcome to new reviewers El Trombonisto, blunaowl, JuneMermaid03, and TheHumanCanvas! I think this might be the most reviews I've ever gotten on a chapter (even if at least one of them wasn't technically on this chapter).**

**Anyway, I thank you all, I love all the reviews and follows and favorites I get, and I'll see you next time!**


	23. Are You a Monster, Too?

**So, fun story. I wrote this one all in one sitting last night. I'm using that as my excuse for any grammatical mistakes/typos you might find it in here.**

* * *

Chapter 23: Are You a Monster, Too?

The list of things that Elsa was not allowed to do while she recovered from her injury was quite long. She was not allowed to read. She was not allowed to write. She was not allowed to attend meetings or even have a short tête-a-tête with her advisors, unless there was a grave emergency. She was not allowed to exert herself. She was not even allowed to eat chocolate.

In comparison, the list of things Elsa was allowed to do was short. She was allowed to rest.

Thinking was not on either list. But after Gerda chased Anna, Kristoff, Nick and even Olaf from the library after lunch, saying that keeping Elsa entertained by reading aloud was all well and good, but not when she needed to _rest_, Elsa found that she could do nothing else.

Elsa had claimed that she did not feel up to returning to her bedroom. So Gerda had clucked over her, called her a poor dear, tucked the blanket in around her, and said that nobody would disturb her for as long as she wished.

As soon as Gerda was gone, closing the door softly behind her, Elsa sat up. Curling against the arm of the sofa, she drew her knees to her chest, eyes leveled at the flickering flames across from her. Her gaze grew unfocused.

She saw sideburns in the fire, a face with a concerned frown that all-too-quickly turned into a mocking sneer. A voice endlessly repeated the same sentence in her head.

"_You have two days to accept my offer."_

Elsa buried her head in her arms and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew if she made any noise the guards would come rushing in, and even if she was alone, even if there was no danger, she didn't want them to see she was upset. One of them would surely get Anna.

She didn't want Anna. No, that wasn't true. She wanted Anna, and she wanted Nick, and she wanted Kristoff and Olaf and even Sven. She wanted Chancellor Tennfjord and Madam Voll, and she wanted Captain Vilmarsen and even Captain Olhouser. She wanted everyone to know what Hans had said to her, what he had proposed, so that they could all argue over whether it would be a good idea to respond to him or not, or, more realistically, what the best way to double cross him would be. Then Elsa could simply pick the best plan, and at the end of the day, she could claim that all she had done was follow the urgings of her advisors. Wasn't that what a Queen was supposed to do?

The only problem was that it wouldn't work. For once, she wasn't trying to fool the castle staff, her Council, or even the people of Arendelle. She doubted there were many who would see a moral or legal problem with trying to trick a traitor into giving himself and his confederates up. The people who were most likely to have a problem with the legal forces of Arendelle double crossing Hans were the people who would also be dragged into the net.

No, the person Elsa would have to work hardest too fool would be herself – and if she didn't known how her own mind worked after over a decade where most of her company could only be found in her head, she would have to be the biggest fool alive.

She might not like herself very much, but even Elsa knew she wasn't _that_ much of a fool.

Elsa sighed. She had to do this on her own. She had to make a decision she could live with. And the only way to do that was to do it by herself.

The way she saw it, she had three options. The first was simply to do as Hans asked: give him his boat, or put him on a boat, and hoped he handed over the dissidents as he had promised. The second was to pretend she was going along with his plan, but to really try to capture both him and the rebels. The third …

The third was to do nothing at all. Make no overtures to Hans, say nothing, keep this conversation between him and her utterly secret. Then she would have to hold her breath and wait for the next shoe to drop.

She sighed and scratched her head, wincing as her fingers came too near the knot that had formed overnight. She wished she could make a list and set her ideas down on paper. She had sometimes found that that helped, seeing everything in black and white. But even if she was allowed to write, doing so would be an incredibly foolish idea. All it would take would be for the wrong person to catch a glimpse, and then the jig would be up.

Elsa closed her eyes and tried to form her lists in her head.

Option 1. Well, the first advantage, of course, was that if Hans was true to his word, she was effectively rid of him and the rebels. Even if Hans didn't keep to his word, she was rid of Hans.

Unfortunately, that was where the advantages ended. Whether she still had to deal with the rebels or not, Option 1 still left Hans out there … in the world … waiting.

_And then what?_ Elsa asked herself. _What will he do next?_

She looked into the fire. For a moment she saw the walls of her ice palace, yellow with anger and sickening fear. In that palace, she heard a voice.

"_Don't be the monster they fear you are!"_

She knew that Nick was probably right: that Hans only said that for his own twisted reasons. She knew that, logically, she had no reason to trust anything that came out of Hans's mouth, now or then or any other time.

She also knew that even a broken clock could be right twice a day. Even terrible people sometimes did things that were of more benefit to others than themselves. Hans may have said that, but that didn't mean he didn't have a point.

What kind of monster would send a creature like Hans out into the world when she knew exactly what he was?

Every bit of misery he caused would be on her head. Even if she didn't know what he did, she would know it was her fault. Gods only knew what he would do. As for his "promise" to never return to Arendelle, that was worth no more than the air he'd use to make it. She would spend the rest of her life fearing when – not if – he would strike her or those she loved again.

Elsa sighed and moved on to Option 2: double-cross.

It was the one her advisors would want. It was what Anna would want, even if it put her in danger. Perhaps it was what any sane and reasonable person would want. She had so many intelligent and cunning heads at her disposal. Why should she not simply tell them what Hans had proposed and let them figure out a way to turn it against him, keeping Anna safe at the same time?

As always when she asked this question, Hans came to answer her.

"_Don't be the monster they fear you are!"_

How would double-crossing him be any different than what he tried to do to her and Anna? Hans saw their weaknesses, looked for an opening, and exploited it. In her case it was fear; in Anna's case it was her loneliness and wish to be loved. What would Elsa be doing but exploiting Hans's ruthlessness and pride for her gain?

She'd let him think she was his friend. She would let him think she was trying to help him. Then, when she was depending on him most, she would pull the rug out from under him and move in for the kill stroke.

"_Your sister is dead! Because of you."_

Elsa hugged her knees and closed her eyes. When her heart stopped pounding, when her breathing slowed, when she could no longer feel the blizzard whipping around her – a memory, she thought – then she opened her eyes and stared into the flames again.

Then there was Option 3: do nothing. She kept her conscience clear, more or less, but …

_What kind of monster of a queen throws away a golden opportunity to be rid of two enemies of her people at once? Or get rid of one of them in the worst-case scenario?_

No matter what she chose, it would be wrong.

Elsa let her eyes wander from the fire. Almost of their own accord, they went to the chess set by the window.

The chess set. How many times had she and her father played at their very set? How many debates had they had about the value of a ruler, and what separated a good ruler from a bad one?

"Papa …" Elsa whispered.

A wave of anger, stupid and irrational, swept over her. Where _was_ he? Why did he and her mother have to leave her? If they were still here – if they hadn't gone to Corona – Elsa wouldn't be dealing with this. Hans would have never had cause to be in Arendelle; he would be chasing vulnerable princesses elsewhere on the continent. He'd be someone else's problem.

And there would be no rebellion. And there would be no break in trade with Weselton. There would be no contingent of her people so frightened of her that they were willing to burn down a building that might have people in it, that they were willing to break a dangerous man out of prison, a man who could and would betray them as easily as he would wink.

So what if Elsa would still be trapped in these four walls, making the slow, unending circuit from her bedroom to the library to the dining room and back again? So what if she would still be estranged from Anna?

… _Anna …_

Anna would still be trapped in this palace, too, if their parents were still alive. Her father had refused to consider marriage offers for either of them until they were twenty-one. Well, he'd refused for Elsa, probably in a bid to stall for time until she could gain control of her powers. He couldn't very well allow Anna to be out to suitors if he hadn't done that for Elsa.

The anger faded, swirling away as the tide brought it back out to sea. Elsa could shoulder the responsibilities of being a Queen if it meant that Anna had a chance to be happy.

But that still didn't get her anywhere closer to an answer.

Elsa stared at the chessboard and let her mind wander …

* * *

"_It seems you've gotten yourself into a bit of a sticky situation there, Elsa." Her father leaned back in his chair, smiling a little as he watched Elsa survey the board._

"_I'll find a way out of it," Elsa replied. She was sixteen, and while she was timid when it came to just about everything else, when it came to chess, she could be quite confident._

_She was _good_ at chess. Chess was simple; there were rules. The pieces could only move in certain ways. Once you made a move with one piece, only certain moves – for both you and your opponent – were now open. The trick was to understand your opponent, know what moves he would make, and be able to make smarter moves before he began to know you just as well._

_She and her father had played a game of chess almost every day for the past eight years. They both knew each other very well. But Elsa played by herself, in her room, with only the fiendishly clever opponents of her imagination as her foes. Her father did not have that time, or that luxury. She could still surprise him from time to time._

"_No matter what move you make, you'll end up losing something," Agdar remarked, almost conversationally._

_Elsa glanced up, annoyed. "I know." She looked back at the board. "That's the nature of chess." The only question, in her mind, was what she could afford to lose. She lifted her hand for one of her pawns._

"_And it's the nature of ruling."_

_Elsa's hand fell back down again._

"_Oh, go on," Agdar said. "I wasn't meaning to stop you."_

_Elsa dared to peek up at him through her lashes. Conceal, don't feel, was not just her motto. It was her father's as well. How many times had she seen that in Council meetings, in private meetings with his advisors where she was allowed to sit quietly and observe?_

_But Agdar's concealment was never complete. If you knew him well, you could find the subtle signs – a twitch of the lips, a puff of the cheeks as he suppressed a smile, a furrowing of the brow – that betrayed what he was thinking._

_Elsa didn't see any of those signs now. Still she refrained. "I'm thinking," she replied. Then, "You were saying?"_

_Agdar didn't answer right away. Perhaps he was completing his own study of her face. Elsa kept her eyes trained on the board and folded her hands in her lap._

"_Sometimes … as rulers … we must make decisions … such as …" He pointed to her bishop. "Would it be better to lose him?" He gestured to her knight. "Or him?"_

_Then he pointed to the white queen. It had always been Elsa's favorite piece on the board. Because of that, she always played white, and she and her father flipped a coin to see who would go first. The first time they had done that, Agdar had winked and told her that if they weren't allowed to bend the rules every now and then, he didn't see what the point of being royalty was._

_That had been when she was eight. It was about a week after the accident, when Agdar had been trying to do and say whatever he could to lift Elsa's spirits. Elsa doubted he would say that now. Too much was at stake._

"_Would it be better to lose her?"_

_Elsa's hand almost went to the white queen. Almost. She kept both of them folded on her lap, neat and prim and gloved._

_She took a deep breath. "What are you trying to say, Papa?"_

_Agdar smiled. It was a sad smile, but at least it reached his eyes. "Just trying to add a … spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down."_

"_You know I prefer chocolate," Elsa replied with a smile._

"_As Her Highness wishes," he replied, pretending to make a florid bow. Elsa giggled behind her hand._

"_But in all seriousness …" he began again, and Elsa forgot all thought of giggling._

_Elsa looked at the board again. "You're saying that sometimes a … ruler must have to give things up in order to do what is best for the kingdom?"_

"_Or simply to remain alive," Agdar replied. When Elsa stared at him, Agdar shrugged. "Elsa … you're old enough, now, to know how things are."_

"_The continent," Elsa repeated._

_Agdar nodded. "Forty years ago, Francelle was close to revolution. Not that I remember it very well," he chuckled. "But the point remains. If it hadn't been for Prince Adam …"_

_Elsa slowly nodded. "Gods only know … and it wasn't just Francelle …"_

"_Indeed. When the people of America decided they wanted nothing more to do with monarchs, you'd be amazed by how many people here thought they had a grand idea."_

_Elsa stared at her gloved hands. With one finger, she traced the delicate crocus stitching on the opposite glove._

_She looked up. "So—so …" She looked at the pieces. "You—you might have to give up …" She pointed to the bishop. "Your morality?"_

_Agdar blinked, but he nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. Rulers are not allowed to keep their hands clean."_

_Elsa nodded. She had known that for a long time. She looked at the board again. The knight. "You might have to give up … your strength?"_

"_Aye, strength or power. Control," Agdar agreed. "That was how Francelle got itself out of its mess. The monarchy gave up a lot of power."_

"_Mama told me that Andalasia has been doing that little by little for years – even before the Americans forced her grandfather's hand."_

"_Your mama is quite correct. We've done much the same thing in Arendelle. The Council, the province legislatures …"_

"_You pushed through the reforms to have the governors elected," Elsa added with a small note of pride._

_Agdar nodded. "I did."_

_Elsa looked at the board again. "So you gave up some control, so that …"_

"_The game would go on," Agdar replied._

"_But Papa – there wasn't any danger, was there?"_

_Agdar looked away. "Not … at that time, no. But—well, Elsa, you know the winds of change are blowing. The wise captain does not sail against the wind."_

_There was something he was not telling her. It didn't matter. Perhaps it wasn't important. Or perhaps Elsa could ask Chancellor Tennfjord for the minutes of the meetings from that time. All she had to do was say that she was curious to know how this democratic reform came about, and the Chancellor would let her look the minutes over – with supervision, of course._

_So for the time being, she accepted what her father said and moved on._

_She looked at the white queen. Her brows knit. "Papa, if the knight was control and – power, I suppose, then what is the queen?"_

_Her father didn't answer at first. Then he cleared his throat. "It's … er …" He swallowed. "Your … self."_

_Elsa looked up. She could feel the room about her grow colder._

No, no, no! Conceal, conceal, conceal!

"_You mean – self-sacrifice? Give up something we want for the good of the people?"_

"_More than that, Elsa. I'm not just talking about chocolate … or even relationships," he replied. "I mean—some part of yourself. Say something you thought you would never say. Do something you thought you would never do. Give up a part of who you are, on the inside –"_

_Elsa pushed her chair back. The room was getting colder and colder. "No. No!"_

"_Now, Elsa, calm down, you know getting upset—"_

"_No! Papa!" She stood up. "You can't ask me to give up anything more!"_

_Agdar blinked. "Wait, what?"_

"_I have no life! I have no friends—I don't even have a sister anymore! If I give up part of myself, I'll have nothing left!"_

_Agdar's face went pale. "Elsa, wait—"_

"_No. Forget the game, I concede! I'm not playing."_

"_No, no, Elsa, I didn't mean—Snowflake—"_

_The room's temperature plunged. The fire went out. Elsa felt the ice creeping down her arms, inching toward her gloved hands, where it would itch to get out._

"Don't call me that,"_ she hissed. Her breath stood in the air._

_Her father was staring at her hands. "Elsa—" He slowly stood up._

_Elsa took a step back. "You know I hate that name! I don't know why you and Mama still like it!"_

_Agdar took another step forward, his hand reaching out for her. "Elsa—"_

"_No! Leave me alone!" She turned on her heel and ran, throwing open the door._

_She found Anna standing outside, a gangly and awkward thirteen, with her hand raised to knock. "Oh, Elsa!" She grinned. "I was just going to ask—can I watch you and Papa play? I won't say anything! Well, maybe not _anything_, but I'll try to be quiet—"_

_The ice was getting stronger. Having realized that her hands were no exit, Elsa could feel it creeping up her shoulders, inching closer to her neck to choke her. It would find a way out, and Anna—_

_Anna was right here—_

"_Get away from me," Elsa whispered._

_The hurt that crossed Anna's face was almost more than she could bear. "Wait, what?"_

"_Move!" Elsa called. She held her arms close to her body, shielding her hands from Anna and Anna from her hands. She ducked forward and ran, trusting that Anna would jump out of the way, which she did._

_Elsa kept running until she reached her room. She fumbled with the knob until she could throw the door open and throw herself inside._

_When she kicked the door closed behind her, Elsa fell forward in her relief. Her skirt hitched up, and bare skin hit the floorboards. Ice started to creep across the room._

_But that was all right. There wasn't anyone to see in here._

_There wasn't anyone to get hurt in here._

_No one but Elsa herself._

* * *

Elsa came back to herself, staring at the chessboard. Her gaze went to the white queen.

"I can't do it, Papa," she whispered. Her breath stood in the air. "I can give up power. I could give up morality. But I can't, I _can't_, give up myself."

She closed her eyes, leaning her head on her knees. "I can't become the monster. I can't do it. I can't send him away and unleash him on gods-know-who. And I can't—I _can't_ double-cross him. I can't become him to try to defeat him.

"I'm sorry, Papa. Maybe I was never meant to be Queen. But I can't do it."

* * *

**A bit of a short one, but since this chapter wasn't technically on my outline, we could call it a bonus chapter, maybe?**

**Anyway! Thank you to my awesome reviewers: Batman1809, Jacob Flores, bandgeek63, WinterKnight2104, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, RJCA27, TheHumanCanvas, homers8736, jonmicava112, and CrunchDeNumbers. Thanks and welcome to new reviewers .5,** **Seth Green, and covsoc!**

**Wow, that was a long list.**

**See you guys next time!**


	24. We Can Fix This Thing Together

Chapter 24: We Can Face This Thing Together

The first day after Han's deadline passed, nothing happened.

The second day after Hans's deadline passed, nothing happened.

The third day after Hans's deadline passed, Elsa had just seated herself at her desk to get some paperwork done – Doctor Spillum had cleared her to return to her duties – when a knock came from her door.

"Yes, who is it?" she asked. The ice rose up in her, and Elsa did nothing to force it down.

The guard, Sergeant Klausen, opened up her door. Since the attack Elsa had insisted on being introduced to every guard when his shift began. She had also put a stop to Captain Olhouser's practice of random shift changes. Captain Olhouser had reasoned that the changing of the guard was always the weakest time, security-wise, since miscreants could figure out when the shift changed and use that time to sneak in. Unfortunately the random shift times had allowed Hans to simply walk up to Elsa's guard, announce that it was time for the shift to change, and take over standing at the infirmary door. It was the kind of bold, borderline suicidal plan that one would have to be crazy to try …

But as Hans had already informed them, he loved crazy. So Elsa was being cautious now.

Sergeant Klausen was a man in his middle years, as far as guards went – getting old for actively protecting a monarch in very real danger, but still young and spry enough. "Your Majesty, the Royal Ice Master and Deliverer requests entry. Shall I let him in?"

"Kristoff? Of course," Elsa replied.

Sergeant Klausen clicked his heels, saluted, and opened up the door. "Enter!"

Slowly, a very bemused Kristoff came in. The ice melted when Elsa saw him. He jerked his head toward the Sergeant and mouthed, _Is he for real?_

Elsa could only shrug. "Sergeant, you may leave us."

"Of course, Your Majesty!" Kristoff was on the very, very small list of people permitted to be with Elsa and Anna without a guard's presence. Elsa had seen to that.

"Thank you!" Elsa called after him. Then, smiling at Kristoff, "Good morning, Kristoff. What can I do for you?"

For some reason that made Kristoff laugh. "I was actually going to ask if I could do something for you. I was going to go on a chocolate run for Anna—"

Elsa's face went blank. "We're … out of chocolate?"

"Um—just certain kinds, I think." Kristoff pulled a list out of his pocket. "Chocolate-covered cherries …"

Elsa tried not to make a face.

"And, um, strawberry filling – and chocolate-covered hazelnuts – and Jorgen's apparently has this hazelnut-chocolate spread that Anna wants to try—and, um, yeah, it's a long list." Kristoff looked up with a shrug. "But there will be plenty of room in the sled if you want me to pick you something up while I'm out." He looked again at the list again. "I hope. But that's what I came to ask you—is there anything I can get for you?"

Elsa giggled behind her hand, but there was a part of her that was touched. She had dozens of servants at her command, any one of which she could have sent out to buy all of the chocolate – or anything else – that she desired. Most of the time, she never had to think about sending them out to buy things. The things she needed were always there when she needed them.

Kristoff had to know that on some level. He had been living at the palace since the Great Thaw. Yet here he was, asking her if she needed anything he could pick up.

"That's—that's awfully kind of you, Kristoff, but I don't …" She paused. "Wait. Wait. Why don't you—could you pick up some carrots for me?" she asked. Elsa bit her lip as Kristoff's eyebrows went up. "Give them to Sven and tell him I miss him." With the stables being out of commission, all of the castle's horses (and one reindeer) were being kept at the closest livery stables. Elsa hadn't had a chance to visit Sven in days.

Kristoff grinned. "Sure thing. Sven misses you too. And Anna. And I think even Olaf …" He scratched his head. "Um, maybe he just misses trying to eat Olaf's nose …"

Elsa giggled. "Well, let's hope that you can buy enough carrots to stave that off for a while. Here, let me get you some …"

Elsa stared at her desk, realizing that of all the things she kept in it, money was not one of them. "Er …"

"Relax, Elsa. Kai gave me the magic pass," Kristoff said. He fished a large brass disk, which was marked with Elsa's head, out of his pocket.

"Oh! Oh, good," Elsa chuckled. That disk showed merchants that the purchase was for the palace, and usually the merchants would just send a bill at the end of the month. When one considered the sheer volume of purchasing the palace did, it made much more sense to have a system of credit than to send servants out with cash all of the time.

"So, yeah, that's all taken care of. Anything else?"

"No, thank you, Kristoff."

"No problem. I'll see you for lunch!" With that, he waved and was gone.

Elsa smiled to herself. That had been very thoughtful of Kristoff. It did something to calm the roiling anxiety that had been in her stomach ever since Hans's attack.

Humming faintly to herself, she turned to the next sheet of paper in her pile and returned to work.

She managed to make a good amount of progress over the next one or two hours. Chancellor Tennfjord and her clerks seemed to have attacked the paperwork with a vengeance, whittling down Elsa's to-do list to the absolute essentials. As she read and worked, Elsa toyed with the idea of asking Chancellor Tennfjord – once all of this was over – to recommend one or two of her clerks as a personal secretary. Her father had employed at least three, to Elsa's recollection. If she could get used to having Marte as a maid, surely she could get used to a personal secretary.

She was still humming faintly when a frantic knocking at the door made her jump. "Yes, what is it?" she asked, half out of her seat. The ice rose up again.

"Sir—Master Anderssen, you cannot—" That was Sergeant Klausen again.

"Sergeant! Allow Kai entry this minute!" Elsa ordered.

The door finally opened, but Kai didn't come in all the way. He panted, leaning on the doorframe for support. "Your Majesty—you must come down immediately—Captain Vilmarsen is here, and—"

"Oh, gods," Elsa whispered, sinking into her chair. "What—what did Hans do?"

Kai only shook his head. "It's not Westergaard. It's—it's Master Bjorgman."

Elsa's stomach plunged, and so did the temperature. Then she was up and running for the door and out of it, leaving Kai and Sergeant Klausen to follow as well as they could.

She flew down the corridors and to the stairs. For the second time in her life she considered sliding down the banisters. For the second time in her life she rejected it, reasoning that a broken neck would just make Hans's day.

She ran down the stairs, holding her heavy skirts up to avoid tripping on them. Once she was on the castle's main floor, all she had to do was follow the shouting.

Anna's shouting.

"What do you mean, I'm not going? Gerda! Get my cloak!"

"Your Highness!" That was Captain Olhouser. "I absolutely forbid it! It is far too dangerous for you to be entering the city at this time."

"Too dangerous? Too _dangerous_? They took Kristoff to the hospital! People DIE in the hospital! I'm getting him out and taking him home!"

_Oh gods, oh gods—_Elsa almost slid past the parlor door, but she managed to grab onto the doorpost and stop herself. She hurried inside, not caring that the room grew colder as soon as she entered it.

Anna stood in the center of the room, trembling with worry or rage or both. Captain Olhouser looked like he was about to burst a vein. Captain Vilmarsen – Captain Vilmarsen was inscrutable.

Both captains stood to attention when she walked in. Having little breath, Elsa dispensed with formalities and got right to the point. "What happened?"

Anna froze, turned around, and launched herself into Elsa's arms. "Kristoff's in the hospital! We have to get him out and bring him home!"

Holding her little sister tight, Elsa rubbed her back and shushed her. She glanced at Captain Vilmarsen, about to repeat her question, but he spoke first.

"Your Highness, if you'd let me finish," he sighed, "Master Bjorgman will be out of there soon enough. And by 'soon enough' I mean a few hours at the most. We took him to the Lady Sylvi Free because it was closest. The doctors are patching him up enough to bring him home." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Trust me, nobody wants him staying at the hospital longer than he has to."

Anna shuddered and gasped, and Elsa tightened her grip on Anna in case she fell. Luckily she stayed standing, but Elsa maneuvered her to a sofa just in case. She sat down beside Anna, one arm around her shoulder, and looked from Captain Vilmarsen to Captain Olhouser and back again. "What _happened_?"

Captain Vilmarsen spoke first. "He was in an accident on Almstedt Hill." Elsa winced; that was the steepest hill in the city. "As far as we can tell, he hit a patch of ice and his sled went out of control. Hel—er—goodness, it was a miracle he was able to keep control of that sled as long as he could." Captain Vilmarsen rubbed his temple. "There was a whole group of kids playing nearby that he somehow managed to avoid. But—well …"

Elsa held her breath and braced herself for the worst.

"Avoiding them, he ended up careening into one of the buildings nearby. The sled took the worst of the impact, lost a runner and everything. But Master Bjorgman was still pretty banged up."

"What does that mean, Captain?" Elsa asked.

Captain Vilmarsen shook his head. "I'm not a doctor. I can tell you this much: he looked like hell when my men pulled him out of there. He wasn't conscious. But I've seen weaker men come back from worse."

That didn't mean anything. Elsa could feel the ice roiling inside of her, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and stay calm for Anna's sake.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Captain Vilmarsen went on. "If he was that badly injured, the doctors would have bitten my head off when I told them he wasn't staying at the hospital. As it is, I only got some cutting remarks."

Elsa supposed that was Captain Vilmarsen's idea of being comforting. She looked down at Anna, leaning against her side, a picture of misery.

"Elsa …" Anna looked up. "I don't—I'm scared. What if he—what if he's very badly hurt?"

Elsa bit her lip and threw caution to the winds. "Captain Olhouser."

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"You have two hours. If Kristoff isn't on his way back to us by then, Anna and I are going to the hospital to see him."

"What? Your Majesty, that is _far_—"

"Those are my orders, Captain. There are some things worth taking a risk for." She hugged Anna's shoulder and kissed the top of her head. "Making sure that someone you love is safe is one of them. Now please, start making plans and getting an escort together. You don't have much time."

Now Captain Olhouser was grinding his teeth as his temple vein throbbed. But he was smart enough to say, "As you wish, Your Majesty," before storming off.

Captain Vilmarsen rolled his eyes.

"Two hours," Anna murmured. "Ok, two hours. I can _totally_ handle two hours. I was born to handle two hours. Just two hours …" She took a deep breath. "Elsa, how long has it been?"

Elsa didn't answer immediately. She looked at Captain Vilmarsen. "Captain … this may … sound like an inappropriate question, but … do you have any news on Sven—er, Master Bjorgman's reindeer?"

Anna gasped and looked up. Elsa braced herself, but the angry reaction she was fearing never came. "Oh gods! Sven!"

"The reindeer's fine," Captain Vilmarsen replied. "Master Bjorgman managed to cut him loose just before he crashed."

"Of course he did," Anna whispered. "That's Kristoff …" Her lower lip started to quiver, just like it had when she was a toddler and a little girl.

"Right. Erm. Well, if your … royal-nesses don't need me, I'll be on my way," Captain Vilmarsen said, slowly edging toward the door.

Elsa glanced between him and Anna, but she decided to wait until he was just outside the door before she called. "Captain, wait!"

Captain Vilmarsen stopped.

Elsa kissed the top of Anna's head before she ran after the Captain. "Captain, this _was_ an accident, was it not?" she asked, pitching her voice low enough that Anna might not hear.

He swallowed. "As of right now, there's no evidence to suggest anything else."

* * *

Captain Olhouser was lucky. After only an hour and a half, word came that the doctors at the Lady Sylvi Free Hospital had cleared Kristoff for release. It didn't take too much persuasion to convince Anna to stay in the castle. But she insisted on waiting in the courtyard, and Elsa joined her.

Anna paced and stomped around, swinging her arms back and forth to keep herself warm. "How long does it take to get from the hospital to here?"

"They're probably going slowly to … keep Kristoff comfortable," Elsa replied. It was only the knowledge that one of them had to keep calm that kept her from pacing besides Anna.

Anna shuddered. "This is all my fault!"

"Wait, _what_?"

"If I hadn't been complaining about being out of chocolate-covered cherries …"

"No, no!" Elsa forced herself to move, if only to stand in front of Anna. "No, Anna, that doesn't make this your fault. Gods know we both need all the chocolate we can get right now," she started, hoping to make Anna smile.

It didn't work. Anna's lips continued to quiver.

"And—and more importantly, you know Kristoff … he's a mountain man, you know he doesn't like to be cooped up too long," Elsa stumbled on. "When—when you said whatever you said about the chocolate-covered cherries, he probably just jumped on the chance to stretch his legs for a few hours."

Anna still didn't look convinced, so Elsa kept babbling. "And don't forget about Sven! He needs exercise! You know Kristoff wouldn't want to leave him to the stable hands for days and days …"

_That_ seemed to do the trick. Some of the guilt seemed to melt away. "Yeah … that's true." Anna nodded. "He'd want to give Sven the exercise."

"Right." Elsa put her arm around Anna's shoulder. "This isn't your fault at all. I—I asked Captain Vilmarsen. It's just an accident. That's not anybody's fault."

"Just an accident," Anna repeated.

"Just an accident," Elsa reassured her.

Anna leaned her head on Elsa's shoulder, and Elsa rocked her back and forth, hoping that somehow she could keep Anna warm and keep her calm at the same time.

They both looked up when they heard the creaking of the gates. But the gates in front of them weren't moving.

"What?" Anna asked.

"The outer gates," Elsa filled in.

"Jeez, that Captain isn't taking any chances, is he?"

Elsa shrugged. "Apparently not."

They waited what felt like forever, but what was really more like five or ten minutes, for the inner gates to open. When they did, the outer gates were already shut. The gates opened on a sled, pulled by two nondescript horses and flanked by a mix of palace and town guards.

They hurried inside. Anna ran to meet them. Elsa forced herself to follow at a more sedate pace, in order to give her sister and Kristoff a modicum of privacy.

Not that Anna seemed inclined to take advantage of it. "Kristoff! Oh, gods, look at you!"

Elsa was just close enough to hear Kristoff … _laugh_?

"Relax, Feistypants! It looks worse than it—ow …"

Elsa looked at the guards, hoping one of them would have an answer. However, it was the woman sitting next to the driver of the sled who spoke. "We gave him laudanum to dull the pain, Your Majesty. Most patients fall asleep with the dose we give him." She glanced backward at Kristoff. "He … didn't."

"Is that bad?" asked Anna.

"Not at all, Your Highness. He's a big man."

"You hear that, Feistypants? I'm a big man!" Kristoff repeated, then he started to laugh—until, again, the laugh was broken off by a muted, "Ow."

"We should get him inside," Elsa said. "Inside, where it's warm. Men, what can I do to help?"

"Your Majesty, you don't need to do anything!" said one of the guards.

In answer, Elsa held up her hands. "I can help."

The guards exchanged glances with the woman. She bit her lip. "Your Majesty, could you make the blanket around him cold? He's bound to get jostled, and we don't want him to be hurt any more than he already is."

"Of course," Elsa said. She hurried to the side of the sled.

She stopped.

She'd heard Kristoff—but she hadn't seen him. She barely held back a gasp.

She couldn't see much of him, and perhaps that was a blessing. But what she could see was enough to make a frigid wind surround them all. He was lying on a stretcher with a black eye and a busted lip. His head was wrapped in bandages. His left arm was held in a sling; Elsa could just see the top of it poking above the blanket. His right leg was slightly bent, naturally posed, but as far as she could tell under the blanket, the left leg was held stiffly, far too stiffly for it to be natural.

Kristoff grinned when he saw her. "Hi, Elsa!"

"H—hello, Kristoff," Elsa replied. "Here—let me help you." She fingered his blanket lightly, covering it with a thin layer of frost without moving it too much.

"Ice! Cool! Elsa, have I ever told you that ice is my life?" Kristoff laughed.

Elsa only smiled. Then she looked again at the bandages around his head and frowned. "Kristoff, does—does your head hurt?"

"It should," replied the woman.

Elsa nodded. She glanced at one of the guards. "Can you help him sit up, please? I have an idea." With a flick of her wrist, she conjured an ice pillow. With the guards' help, Kristoff sat up and Elsa slipped the pillow under his head. He sighed a little when he was laid back down again.

Then there was nothing else for Elsa to do but to put an arm around Anna's shoulders and coax her backward, giving the men plenty of room to pick up Kristoff and get him into the palace.

Getting Kristoff up the stairs – both into the palace and up to his bedroom – was the worst. The stairs in the palace were made to be grand and impressive, not to facilitate bring severely injured men to their quarters on an upper floor. Every time the men were a little bit out of step or jostled Kristoff, Elsa winced and Anna whimpered.

Kristoff had still been laughing at the little things when he was first brought inside. By the time he was in his room, he was mostly silent. Only an occasional "ow" still escaped him.

Elsa bit her lip so hard as they walked that she was sure she was going to draw blood. She didn't know how Anna kept herself together.

When they got to Kristoff's room, Doctor Spillum was waiting. "Doctor Holt!" The woman hurried forward. "What have we here?"

As the two doctors conferred, the guards were able to transfer Kristoff to his bed. Anna ran forward and grabbed the ice pillow, putting it behind Kristoff's head. Once she was by his side, she didn't seem inclined to leave, holding his uninjured right hand in hers.

Elsa took a deep breath, and, not knowing what else to do … she waited.

* * *

Three cracked ribs. A broken leg. A badly sprained wrist. A concussion. And those were just the surface wounds that Elsa could see.

Elsa rubbed Sven's nose. He was being kept in one of the stalls in the farrier's workspace, brought there as a precaution after the accident. This smaller outbuilding hadn't been touched by the fire, so there was room enough for Sven – and room enough for Elsa to conjure a stool in his stall, let him rest his head on her lap, and feed him carrots.

Not that Sven was in a carrot-eating mood. He had bellowed mournfully when Elsa came in, looking over her shoulder for Kristoff.

"He'll be all right, buddy," Elsa whispered to the reindeer. He flicked his ears toward her. "The doctors say he'll be fine."

… _If there are no internal injuries,_ Elsa added in her head, remembering what Doctor Spillum had said. Right now the signs for Kristoff were all right – but if there was internal bleeding somewhere, there was nothing the doctors could do but wait and make sure that he was comfortable.

_Oh, gods,_ Elsa thought. She hugged Sven's shaggy neck. _This was just what we needed, wasn't it?_

"And you're all right, too." Elsa patted Sven and scratched him around the ears. "He took good care of you, didn't he? He made sure you were safe before he worried about himself."

Sven bellowed and nuzzled his face in Elsa's skirts.

"I know. I know." Elsa kept patting his neck. "He takes good care of all of us."

And now Anna was taking good care of Kristoff. Elsa sighed. The doctors had insisted that Kristoff have rest and minimal company. Since it probably would have taken a whole contingent of guards to remove Anna from the room, Elsa had taken that as her cue to leave. Whether Anna would be leaving anytime soon was anybody's guess. The "little birds" around the castle who supplied Master Hummel with so many rumors would probably be tweeting up a storm. Hopefully he wouldn't print anything … or, more likely, if he learned about the extent of Kristoff's injuries, he'd realize that only an idiot would put "injured Kristoff" and "attentive Anna" together and come up with "scandal."

"Then again, Sven, there are quite a few idiots out there," Elsa remarked conversationally. Perhaps she was fooling herself, but she imagined that the reindeer liked to hear her voice. He certainly looked up when he heard her.

"What was that song Anna heard Kristoff singing?" Elsa asked. "'Reindeers are Better than People'?"

Sven snorted and nodded.

Elsa scratched behind his ears. "Sometimes it's hard not to believe him, Sven."

Sven looked up, ears low and his eyes big and sad.

"What? No. No," Elsa said. "I am not singing that song for you. First of all, I don't even know the words. Second—singing isn't something I really do—"

"Aww, why not, Elsa?"

Elsa's eyes went wide. She looked over her shoulder. "… Olaf?"

"I heard you singing up at the North Mountain!" he went on. He lifted his head up so he could see over the stall door. "'_Let it go! Let it go! Turn away and slam the door!_'"

He put his head down, but only so he could lift the latch and walk in. "I thought it was the prettiest voice I'd ever heard." He rubbed his chin. "Of course, at that point it was the only voice I'd ever heard …"

"Heh," Elsa replied, humiliatingly aware of just how red her cheeks were getting, even if no one but Olaf and Sven were there to see.

"But I've heard a lot more voices since then, and I still think yours is the prettiest!" Olaf said loyally, waddling over to her.

With an absent gesture, Elsa turned her ice-stool into a bench large enough to fit her and Olaf. Olaf clambered onto it and snuggled against Elsa's side.

The way he snuggled said more than his cheerful greeting had. "You heard?" Elsa asked.

Olaf nodded.

"The doctors say Kristoff's going to be all right," she said.

"I know." Olaf said. "Anna told Gerda to tell me."

"Good."

"But I wish he wasn't hurt at all."

Elsa gulped. She held Olaf a little closer. "Me too."

"So why don't you sing for us, Elsa?" Olaf looked up, his big black eyes boring into hers. "Maybe it'll make us all feel better."

"I …" Elsa started. Then …

_Why not? It might make us feel better._

She coughed to clear her throat. The last time she'd sung like this had been that night on the North Mountain.

"_The snow glows white on the mountain tonight,_" she started. "_Not a footprint to be seen …_"

Strange—many factors of her journey to the North Mountain were a bit of a blur. But she remembered that song perfectly, every word she had sung, every note she had hit. The gestures she had made, the snow she had been able to conjure and move … her ice palace … Olaf.

Something about the way the power flowed through her that night had made everything she went through to get to that point seem almost worthwhile. Of course, everything had come crashing down around her before night fell again. But that night and the day that had followed – at least until Anna came and told her what a mess she had made of things – had been the happiest of her life to that point.

There was something to be said for the euphoric aftereffects of fear, when one was convinced that the worst thing that could possibly happen had happened, and that one was still here, still standing, and now didn't have to be afraid anymore.

When she finished, Olaf snuggled against her more closely. Even Sven sighed in contentment. "D'aww, that was pretty great," Olaf sighed. "Don't you think so, Nick?"

Elsa froze. _NICK?!_

She only barely was able to gently coax Sven's head off her lap when she stood. "N-Nick?"

He was standing just a little back from the stall, wincing. "Um … hi."

"H-h-hi," Elsa replied, twisting her hands together. Why did he have such an aptitude for walking in on what she thought were private moments? And why didn't she mind more?

Nick smiled a little as he walked closer to the stall door. "Sorry—I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that," he winced. "But—well, I found Olaf after I heard what—what happened, and he—"

"I thought that Anna is taking care of Kristoff, and so that means that you would be taking care of Anna," Olaf filled in for himself, "but then I thought, who's taking care of Elsa? She could probably use a warm hug right now. Who's going to give her one?"

"He knew just where to find you, too," Nick murmured. "Do you come here often?"

Elsa shook her head. She hadn't set foot in this room until today.

They were only inches from each other now, including the space left by the stall door. "How are you?" Nick asked.

Elsa gulped and twisted her hands together. "The—the doctors say Kristoff should be fine. As long as there aren't any … internal injuries …"

Nick nodded. "He'll be fine."

Elsa blinked. "How—how can you be so sure?"

"Well …" A smile poked at the corner of Nick's lip as he brought a hand up to caress Elsa's cheek. Elsa put her hand over his, savoring just how warm he was. "The way I see it … Anna needs him now, doesn't she?"

Elsa nodded.

"Then he's not going anywhere," Nick shrugged. He stepped a little closer to Elsa and Elsa stepped a little closer to him. Now the only thing separating them was the stall door, and that was only waist-high. "If she—if she _needs_ him—he's not going anywhere."

Elsa swallowed and licked her suddenly dry lips. "You think so?"

"I know so."

He was smiling, just a little. Elsa smiled, just a little, back. Then she closed her eyes and leaned closer.

When their lips met, it was like the ice in her finally melted. She wasn't forced to stand up straight, to be strong, to shoulder everything alone. She could finally, finally let it go, knowing there would be someone to catch her at the end of it all.

She clung to him, and he held her up, and only that blasted stall door separated them.

But somehow, in the midst of all this, she could hear Olaf.

"You know, Sven … when I told Nick that Elsa needed a warm hug, this wasn't what I had in mind."

Sven snorted.

"You're right, buddy. This'll work just fine."

* * *

**Olaf hath spoken, and thus endeth the chapter.**

**Thanks to all of my reviewers: Ryu Kitsune Bard84, Jacob Flores, jonmicava112, JuneMermaid03, Batman1809, homers8736, CrunchDeNumbers, TheHumanCanvas, and the Guest reviewer! Also, thank you and welcome to newbie tyler werner 507!**

**The next chapter will be more action-oriented, so buckle your seatbelts, everyone. It's going to be a wild ride!**


	25. Let the Storm Rage On

**Holy cow. I think that's the most reviews I've ever gotten for a chapter. Hopefully this one won't disappoint!**

* * *

Chapter 25: Let the Storm Rage On

The next morning dawned clear but cold. The fires could barely keep the great hall warm enough to make it comfortable to eat breakfast in there. Elsa had chosen to dine there this morning rather than face the empty breakfast room, but now she was beginning to doubt her choice. The cold itself might not bother her, but cold tea sure did.

Nick and Master Pilkvist were also dining in the hall. Master Pilkvist was shivering, and whenever he thought Elsa wasn't paying attention he would shoot her a dirty look. Nick caught Elsa's eyes and rolled his.

Elsa smiled. She was amazed that she was able to do that, what with everything that had happened with Kristoff.

Luckily Kristoff had, according to Gerda, passed a good night. He was still in pain and quite a bit of it, but he had managed to get some semblance of sleep. Anna had stayed with him all night, and Gerda had only been able to pack her off to her own bed this morning. "She must have been exhausted, poor pet, because she barely argued at all," Gerda had said as she helped Elsa with her hair.

"You must be exhausted, too," Elsa replied.

Gerda's brushing hands had slowed. "Well … _I_ for one never saw a problem with a little nap during the day, for all that some say it's bone laziness."

"We've been running you ragged, haven't we, Gerda?" Elsa asked. "We need to make it up to you – and Kai, too – somehow."

"Nonsense! If you'd been keeping me up at all hours on purpose that would be one thing – but this is just a rash of bad luck. You can't help that. Besides, you know what they say," she chortled, putting the last pin into Elsa's hair, "no rest for the wicked!"

_No rest for the wicked indeed,_ thought Elsa, stirring a bit of milk into her tea. At this rate, it was doubtful if anyone in the castle qualified as good.

She had just added her first lump of sugar when the large doors at the end of the hall were opened by Kai, who quickly shut them again before he hurried toward the high table. After a perfunctory bow, he handed her a small sealed note. "From Captain Vilmarsen, Your Majesty," Kai murmured.

Elsa's eyes went wide and she grabbed the note quickly. She didn't bother to hide her shaking hands as she popped the seal and opened it.

The note was brief and to the point:

_Your Majesty,_

_When you get this note, come to the station house as soon as you can. There's something you need to see._

_Capt. S. Vilmarsen_

Cryptic, but … "Kai, are we certain that this came from the Captain?"

Kai nodded. "He handed it to me himself." After a second, he added, "You can probably still smell the cigar smoke on it."

Elsa managed a short chuckle without mirth. "I think I'll pass." She glanced again at the note. "Is the Captain still here?"

"No. He came to the gate to give this to me, then he was on his way again."

"I see," Elsa murmured. "Kai, please have the men make the sled ready. And cancel this morning's appointments."

She glanced at the note again. "I have … another place to be."

* * *

Elsa met Captain Vilmarsen at the station house, but they did not stay there long. Elsa wasn't even escorted up to his office, for as soon as he heard she was there, he was coming down the stairs and wrestling his way into his greatcoat. "Come on," he said. "We're going to Egilsen's."

"Egilsen's?" Elsa repeated, falling into step with him (and her guards) as she turned back around and left the station house. "The sled shop?" That was where Anna had bought Kristoff's sled, and Elsa had brought it back there for the Yule gift of new runners.

Captain Vilmarsen nodded once, grimly. "Mind if we take your sled? It's closed and I don't imagine your guards will fancy the idea of you riding in an open one – or walking, Gods forbid."

"Of course not," Elsa replied. They had already reached the door and walking down the steps only took a moment. "But why are we going there?" asked Elsa as one of the guards handed her inside.

"You'll see," was all Captain Vilmarsen would say.

Once they were both inside, the ride started in silence. Captain Vilmarsen scowled at the wall opposite them, and Elsa twisted her hands in her skirt and tried to think of something to say.

As they went along, the hubbub from outside grew with every moment. "The Queen! The Queen!" Elsa heard voices say, particularly young voices. She sighed. Even if she had the curtains pulled down, the royal sled was distinctive.

"Blast," Captain Vilmarsen muttered below his breath.

"Sir?"

He looked up. "I was trying to avoid this," he said, nodding to the window, the closed curtain, and presumably the world outside.

"… Oh," Elsa murmured.

"Eh, don't be upset," he shrugged. "Not something you can help. All of them being happy to see you is a good thing, all things considered."

"I suppose," Elsa replied, but all she could think of was a knife at her throat and Hans's voice whispering in her ear.

"_Did you know that there are men in this city who hate you, Elsa? They hate you more than I did, even when I had my sword raised up above your head. I would have ended your life with one quick, clean stroke. They would make you suffer."_

She shuddered and tried not to think about that.

Despite the guards trying to keep the way clear in front of them, it was still a weekday, and the crowds came out in force when they heard Elsa was present. She looked at the closed curtains and tried to hold back a shudder. At least when she had spent all that time hiding in the castle, there had been windows …

But opening the curtains would have been inviting trouble, so Elsa kept them closed.

Finally they came to the sled shop. The Captain must have let Master Egilsen know they were coming, for Elsa heard them pull into the shop proper and then heard a loud noise as the door behind them closed.

She turned to Captain Vilmarsen with a raised eyebrow.

"Easier to keep the crowds away when there's a door between them and us," the Captain shrugged.

Elsa had to wait while the guards fanned out and inspected the premises, presumably to make sure that Hans hadn't decided to disguise himself as a sled shop worker. Of course if he had, Elsa had to wonder what they would do – she was already in here and the doors were shut.

Finally the door on her side opened and one of the guards extended his hand to her. "Everything's clear, Your Majesty."

"Thank you," Elsa said, allowing the guard to hand her down. She glanced around the shop until she found the man she was looking for – Master Egilsen.

She had met him once or twice before. He'd impressed her back then as a big man, tall and well-built, though running to fat these days. His eyes had a knowing twinkle and his lips a telltale smirk. Today there was none of that. He stood with his shoulders hunched and his hat in his hands, being twisted this way and that.

Elsa tried to smile. "Good morning, Master Egilsen. Captain Vilmarsen … indicated that there was something here I should see?"

In answer, Master Egilsen sent a mutely appealing glance to Captain Vilmarsen. The Captain shrugged. "This is your show, Egilsen, not mine."

"Er …" Master Egilsen swallowed. "Well—then, I guess, Your Majesty, you'd best follow me."

_Why does there have to be such a big mystery about this? _Elsa wondered Master Egilsen led her into the next window in the shop, Captain Vilmarsen right behind her and the guards flanking them on all sides. This side had the big window that let in plenty of light, and, not incidentally, let everyone on the street see that Master Egilsen was doing the work promised and not cheating his customers.

"Mind the mess," he said a little self-consciously as they all tried to dodge sawdust, tools left lying on the ground, and puddles of dried varnish. "We were just tryin' to repair this beauty," he patted on a battered sled that Elsa realized after a shocked moment was Kristoff's, "well, as well we could, given how cold it is … but then we found … er, this."

The sled had been turned on its side, and one of the runners was gone – not removed to be replaced, but just gone, the supports torn and mangled. Or so it seemed to Elsa. Master Egilsen pointed to one of them. "Look here, Your Majesty."

Elsa looked, bending near and squinting at the support. As far as she could tell it was just a broken piece of sled equipment. The ends of the support were frayed and mangled, splintered and—

_Wait …_

Elsa bent nearer.

The quarter or so of the support that was nearest to the outside of the sled was frayed and mangled. The other three quarters weren't. They were smooth and even. Elsa even ran a finger over it to be sure.

She swallowed. "I see the difference, but … what am I looking at?"

Master Egilsen sent a mute glance of appeal to Captain Vilmarsen. He nodded to Master Egilsen, who sighed.

"Well, Your Majesty," he said, stepping a little closer so he could point, "this bit, here," he pointed to the frayed quarter, "this got torn off, natural-like. Could have been the ice, could have been a bump in the cobblestones – it's impossible to tell. But _this_ bit," he pointed to the smoother part, "this bit was cut with a saw."

Elsa blinked slowly. "A … saw."

"And they're all like that," Master Egilsen went on. Elsa could hear the misery in his voice. "At least on this side. The other side's all right."

_Cut with a saw. Cut with a saw._

"So," Elsa stammered, "so that means—"

_Cut with a saw._

She saw the snow starting to fall around her before she realized she was doing it. Before she heard her heart start to hammer. Before she let her conscious mind realize what her innermost thoughts had already figured out.

_No. No. No, no, no—_

_CRASH!_ And the tinkle of broken glass.

Elsa's head whipped toward the window, but before she could see anything, Captain Vilmarsen shouted, "DOWN!"

He tackled her around the waist before any of her guards could get to her. It was only thanks to some quick wrenching that Elsa was able to let her shoulder hit the ground before her head.

"EVERYBODY DOWN!" Captain Vilmarsen shouted again. "Godsdammit, I said _DOWN_!"

Elsa heard the thump-thump-thump of other bodies hitting the ground.

_Oh, gods, we're being attacked—_

But she could stop this.

She tried to wriggle to get a look at the window.

"You especially, Your Majesty! Stay down!"

Elsa tossed him one glare before—there it was! The window! And nobody between her and it. She shot power out.

The minute her power hit the shattered glass pane, ice crusted over it and spread to the whole window. It didn't stop until it entirely covered the surface.

Elsa breathed a sigh of relief and flopped back.

"While that did help with the draft, Your Majesty, we're not out of the woods yet, especially not if they start firing again."

Elsa glared. "My ice can stop crossbow bolts."

For the first time in her life, she saw Captain Vilmarsen seriously discomfited. "I'm sorry, what?"

"My ice. It can stop crossbow bolts. Obviously we need to figure out who fired on us, but for the moment—"

"Your ice can stop _crossbow bolts_?" Captain Vilmarsen repeated.

"Yes. Now if we could please—"

"Your ice. Crossbow bolts."

"_Yes_!"

"Are you sure? Does Olhouser know about this?"

"Yes, I'm sure! I'd be dead if it didn't! Now will you _please_ get off me?"

The Captain's eyes were still wide as he rolled off her. "Holy—" he started, but thankfully for Elsa's ears and his employment prospects, he never finished.

"Um, Captain?" asked one of Elsa's guards – Corporal Beritsen, if Elsa remembered correctly. He was a fresh-faced young man, barely more than a boy, who always turned bright red when Elsa looked directly at him. As she was doing now.

Still, he managed to keep his eyes on the Captain. "It wasn't a crossbow they fired at us—"

Before being told, Elsa flopped back on the ground again, the ice rising up in her fingers just in case.

"… It was a rock."

Elsa looked up. So did Captain Vilmarsen and virtually everyone else in the shop.

"A _rock_?" Captain Vilmarsen repeated.

"With a note around it," Corporal Beritsen went on.

_A note?_ Elsa's stomach dropped. _Oh no …_

"Let me see," Captain Vilmarsen said. Corporal Beritsen tossed the rock to him and Captain Vilmarsen slowly and carefully took the note off. His gloved hands smoothed the wrinkles and his brow furrowed as he read.

"Captain, let me see that note," Elsa ordered, trying to tell the swirling storm inside of her to calm down.

The Captain's brow was still furrowed. "Fine, but don't touch it with your bare hands, just in case."

Elsa's hand was already reaching for the note, but she drew it back. She thought.

She snapped her fingers and the note grew a thin film of ice. When there was enough for her to put her fingers on it, she took it from a stunned Captain Vilmarsen's fingers.

She took a deep breath and read.

There wasn't much to read. It was only three words plus what passed for a signature, straightforward and to the point.

_Offer's still open._

– _HW_

The snow started falling around Elsa again as the temperature in the room took a sudden dip.

What happened to Kristoff—it wasn't an accident.

Hans had done this.

Elsa had refused to reply to his proposal, so he upped the ante. He had come or sent a confederate – did it really matter which? – and tampered with Kristoff's sled. What were the odds that Kristoff's sled was being watched closely in the livery stable? And with damage like that, an accident was inevitable.

Hans had badly hurt Kristoff. He could have hurt Sven, if Kristoff were any less attentive to his best friend. And what about everyone else on that hill? Any one of them could have been hurt—Kristoff could have been killed—

The thought came again with all of the force of a sucker punch to the gut. _Kristoff could have been killed._

Kristoff could have been killed. Sven could have been killed. Those children playing on Almstedt Hill, they could have been killed. Any number of people could have been killed.

And Hans didn't care.

He was no fool. He knew this was a risk he would have to run. Kristoff could have gotten into an accident somewhere in the snows outside the city, left there to freeze if he could not move because of his injuries. Or he could have gotten into his accident in the middle of a crowd of people, putting gods only knew how many at risk.

_He could have killed Kristoff,_ Elsa thought, the though accompanied by a wave of … anger? _He could have killed Kristoff; he could have killed Sven; he could have killed those children or someone else who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And for what? To get a rise out of me?_

_And they call _me_ a monster?_

Her hand shaking, Elsa stared at the iced-over note. Her fingers had gripped it so hard that spider web patterns grew and spread through the ice.

Something had to be done – but what?

She couldn't think. The fury was too great. _And people support him! And people prefer him! Hans got them through the winter, Hans saved them! If they knew what he was really like—_

_Wait._

Elsa's eyes went wide.

_If they knew …_

She stared at the note in her hand again.

"Your Majesty, are you all right?" she heard a voice – Captain Vilmarsen – ask. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but we might as well be outside right now, if you catch my drift?"

Elsa swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "We need to go to the _Times_ office."

"We need to—_what_?"

Elsa felt herself start to get up. "Men—get my sled ready. We'll leave as soon as you determine it's safe."

"Your Majesty, the _Times _office?" Captain Vilmarsen asked. "Why?"

"Because it's obvious that Hans did this, isn't it?" Elsa asked, snapping her fingers at Kristoff's sled.

"That's—one theory—"

"Hans did this!" Elsa repeated, waving the note. "He did this because I wouldn't play his game! Well, I say enough of that! I'm not going to let some madman put my people in danger!"

Captain Vilmarsen's eyebrows went up. "And … how will going to the _Times_ office stop him?"

Elsa smiled. "Oh … you'll see."

* * *

For the second time that day, Elsa was greeted by the sight of a man hurrying down the stairs while struggling into his jacket.

Master Hummel, however, was trying to put on his frock coat, not his greatcoat. And his greeting was less to the point and more panicked. "I wasn't even going to _say_ anything about the Princess and the—ice harvester!"

_What?_ Elsa wondered, then remembered how their last face-to-face, solo meeting had gone. "Oh—Master Hummel, no, I'm not here about that."

He came to an abrupt stop on the third step down. His right arm still hadn't found its way into the jacket and his jaw was hanging open. "You're—not?"

Elsa shook her head. "No, sir. I was hoping …"

She stopped. Not only were her guards and Captain Vilmarsen staring at her, so was everybody on the first floor of the newspaper office. And there were quite a few people here, between reporters, printers, and even a few paperboys.

Elsa took a deep breath. "Master Hummel, how would you like to sell a great many newspapers today?"

Master Hummel's eyebrows went up, and he turned to Captain Vilmarsen. The Captain could only shrug. "Your Majesty …" Master Hummel looked back at her. "Is this a trick question?"

"Not at all, sir."

"Well—then—of course I would. I'd like to do that every day." He made to straighten his waistcoat and seemed to realized that his coat was only half on. He quickly forced his other arm through the sleeve.

"Excellent. Sir, I have a story that I am sure will help you sell many, many papers tonight – and perhaps for several days to come. Shall we go up?"

"Ahem." That was Captain Vilmarsen, coughing. "Your Majesty, perhaps you ought to let them …?" He gestured to the guards, one eyebrow raised.

Elsa took a deep breath. Her nerves were already thrumming within her, and the last thing she needed was another reason for worry or delay. But she nodded. "Master Hummel, do you object to my men checking your office to ensure that it is safe before we go up?"

"When you say checking my office …"

"We're looking for assassins and booby traps, sir. Neither I nor my men have any interest in your papers, sources, or forthcoming stories."

"Ah. Well, don't let me stop them, then." Master Hummel replied, stepping to the side. He adjusted jacket and waistcoat as two of the guards hurried up the stairs. "Second door on the left, gentlemen. And do tell me if you find any assassins or booby traps. I didn't think the cub reporters had it out for me, but well, you never know."

Elsa rolled her eyes. The men were barely gone for thirty seconds before she started to pace. At least she wasn't trailing ice behind her.

Everyone was staring at her, but she didn't stop. The anger and the energy were bubbling up inside of her, and she had to let it out somehow.

After what seemed like an age, the guards came down and communicated their lack of results with a single nod. Elsa turned to Master Hummel. "Sir?"

"Right this way, Your Majesty." Master Hummel led the way, another of Elsa's guards following.

They went into Master Hummel's office. On first inspection, it looked a little like a few books had exploded in it – papers were everywhere, virtually all covered with a spidery, crabbed handwriting that had almost as many crossings-out as words. The wastebasket was full to overflowing with balled up paper.

But on closer inspection one could see that it was an office in transition. There were touches – the leather chair behind the desk, an expensive imported fountain pen, a couple of knickknacks on the copious shelves – that said that there was money around here, somewhere. And then there was the desk itself, battered and old; the dog-eared books; the cheap paper and notebooks; even the building. There might be money coming in, but Master Hummel apparently wasn't all that talented when it came to spending it.

"Sorry about the mess," Master Hummel said, grabbing a pile of notebooks and unearthing a rickety wooden chair. "Please, have a seat."

"I'd prefer to stand," said Elsa, taking a deep breath.

"It's not _that_ messy!"

"No—no, sir, it has nothing to do with the … chair or anything else." Elsa took another deep breath. Now that she was here, her nerves were thrumming with even more intensity. And was the room starting to get colder? _Blast_. "I—trust me, it will be easier on me if I am standing. But—but please don't remain standing on my account."

She glanced at the guard, Sergeant Mortensen, with an apologetic smile. "That goes for you, too."

Sergeant Mortensen blinked, but he made no move to sit down. Master Hummel, however, did take his seat.

Elsa turned again to the newspaper editor. "Sir, I would like to release a statement to the people of Arendelle through your paper. Unfortunately, with—circumstances being what they are, I do not have it written down. Would it be all right if I dictated it to you?"

Master Hummel's eyebrows went up, but he grabbed his pen and sheet of paper. "It's been a while since I took dictation, but … if that's how you want to do this."

"Thank you." Elsa swallowed. She had been practicing this statement in her head since she got into the carriage. She started to pace.

"Good people of—no, that's horrible. _Citizens_ of Arendelle," Elsa began. "I am sure that many of you read in this very paper that, several nights ago, I was taking a walk in the palace gardens when I fainted, striking my head as I fell to the ground. Unfortunately, due to circumstances that are in no way the fault of the _Times_, what you read was not true. While I did injure my head, it was not due to a fainting fit."

Elsa took a deep breath. "It was because I was attacked by Hans Westergaard."

Master Hummel dropped the pen. "_What?_"

Elsa winced.

"How—how in the _gods_' name—"

"I am not answering that!" Elsa snapped. "Not now, and certainly not in the paper! You can ask me later, Master Hummel, when this is all over, but I am not answering that now!"

Master Hummel's jaw fell, but slowly he nodded. He picked up the pen again. "Keep going."

Elsa gulped. "As I am sure you all know, Hans Westergaard escaped the prison in which he was being held several days before that. It is now the belief of the Crown and the town guards that he was assisted in his escape by a group of … malcontents who have been making trouble for some time. These would be the people who have been publishing lewd and obscene pamphlets, vandalizing both state and private property, and showcasing their … snowmen all over the city. We also believe they were the people who cause the fire to the palace stables last month, the fire that caused one man to be injured near death."

"The _stable fire_? You all said that was—"

Elsa glared. Master Hummel shut up and kept writing.

"As I was saying. These people have steadily increased their show of displeasure from simply expressing legitimate, if rather crude, dissent, to property damage, to arson and – legally speaking – attempted murder, and now to helping an extremely dangerous man escape from prison." Even Elsa felt the cold breeze whip around them. She closed her eyes and thought of warm hugs to calm herself down. "For despite the fact that his trial is not yet over, I believe I do have the right to call him an extremely dangerous man. Without even touching upon the events of last summer, when Hans Westergaard saw me last, he grabbed me from behind and held a knife to my throat to get me to listen to what he had to say. And what is worse, he threatened the life of my sister, Princess Anna."

Elsa saw that Master Hummel's jaw had fallen, but his hand kept moving. So Elsa kept speaking.

"His goal was simple: he had a proposition for me. He claimed that he was in league with the malcontents, but, if I were to pay his passage on a ship and give my word that the Navy would not follow him, he would be willing to turn those men over to me."

Elsa swallowed. "I want this to be absolutely clear: Ha—Master Westergaard was willing to betray the very men who had arranged for his escape from prison in exchange for free passage out of Arendelle."

"I think we can dispense with the honorific," Master Hummel muttered.

"I would prefer we did not," Elsa replied. "You can do as you please in your editorials and your paper's coverage, sir, but I would prefer we keep it for this statement."

Master Hummel looked up, but without another word he shrugged and kept writing.

"Master Westergaard gave me two days to consider his offer. Then he struck me on the head, causing me to lose consciousness while he made his escape.

"I …" Elsa shuddered a little, clutching her arms and rubbing them as if she was cold. "Master Westergaard had made his proposition to me and to only me. I therefore decided that the response should come from me and from only me. Ultimately, after much deliberation, I rejected Master Westergaard's offer. I would _not_ negotiate with an alleged almost-murder and traitor."

She didn't dare look in either Master Hummel's direction or Sergeant Mortensen's. "This brings us to the sled accident which occurred yesterday involving Master Kristoff Bjorgman, Royal Ice Master and Deliverer. As I am sure most of you know, Master Bjorgman was driving his sled on Almstedt Hill when he lost control of the vehicle. Although he was able to maintain enough control to keep his sled from hurting anyone else – including a group of children playing nearby – he himself was badly injured and is still recovering in the palace.

"Unfortunately, the Crown now has evidence that what happened to Master Bjorgman was no accident."

Elsa paused, licking her lips. "Would you—would you make that its own paragraph, please?"

"I was already planning on it, Your Majesty."

"Thank you." Elsa took yet another deep breath. "We have discovered evidence that Master Bjorgman's sled was tampered with. Furthermore, as Captain Vilmarsen was showing me said evidence, some person or persons unknown threw a rock through the window of the shop where Master Bjorgman's sled is being repaired. If we had any doubts about who was responsible for this tampering, the note soon dispelled them."

Elsa couldn't help the fury that rose within her, nor could she help the face she made. Still she paused. "Should—should I say what the note said?"

"What—oh, oh, yes. You should," Master Hummel replied. "Although I can always print it separately, if you like."

Elsa shook her head. "The—write this down, please, sir—the note was only three words long, but it leaves no room for doubt. It says, 'Offer's still open,' and it is signed HW. The implication is clear.

"So is Master Westergaard's strategy. By endangering the life of an official of the government of Arendelle, the man who is courting Princess Anna, and my own friend, he intends to intimidate me into doing what he wants.

"However, he has miscalculated. For Master Westergaard did not only endanger Master Bjorgman's life. Due to the nature of the tampering, Master Bjorgman's accident could have happened anywhere. Anyone could have been injured. Anyone could have been _killed_. Allow me to state again that there were children playing near the place where Master Bjorgman's sled failed. If Master Bjorgman had been any less skilled as a driver, those children could have been killed.

"And I will not," Elsa could feel the temperature dropping as the anger rose, "I will _not_ allow this—this _madman_ to threaten the lives of my people!"

She shouted the last part, and a sudden blast of snow made her feelings absolutely clear.

"Er …" Elsa felt herself start to flush as she dispelled the snow with a shaking hand, "sorry about that."

"Your Majesty, are you all right?" asked Sergeant Mortensen. "Perhaps you should take a moment?"

Elsa shook her head, even if she did take a brief moment to catch her breath. Master Hummel watched her with an expression Elsa couldn't read.

"So I have a message for my people. Hans Westergaard _will_ be caught. He _will_ face justice – one way or another. _That_ I will accomplish if it takes me until my dying breath.

"But I have another message to the people harboring him. You have a dangerous man in your midst, one who will prey on you until you are no longer useful to him. Then he will throw you to the side, not caring what happens to you. If you have any doubts about this, the experience of—of Princess Anna should be illustrative." Elsa swallowed. "He has already offered to betray you all to save his own skin.

"But you do not have to be his victim. Turn him in! I give my personal word, both as Queen of Arendelle and as a woman of honor, that anyone who brings information to the Crown or her agents regarding Master Westergaard's current whereabouts or plans will be treated leniently. You might be aiding and abetting a traitor now, but I am willing to forget that if you do the right thing now.

"If not …" Elsa swallowed. "If not, I make no promises. Unless I have an excellent reason not to, I will have no choice but to prosecute and punish everyone currently harboring Master Westergaard to the fullest extent of the law. By aiding and abetting a traitor, you are traitors yourself. Remember that.

"In—in conclusion," Elsa started, stumbling a bit. She had hated writing out conclusions to arguments since she was just a schoolgirl, and right now it wasn't any easier. "I cannot overstate how dangerous Master Westergaard is. However, I also cannot overstate my determination and that of every official of the Crown to see to it that he is brought to justice. This danger will pass. We will get through this. I give you my word as Queen."

Elsa closed her eyes, ran over everything she had planned to say, and nodded. "Sign it Elsa Agdarsdatter, Queen of Arendelle, if you please."

Master Hummel slowly wrote out her name. Elsa watched as he read what he had written over.

"Is—is there anything you would suggest I would change?" Elsa asked.

"Oh, I'm not changing a _thing_," replied Master Hummel. "Of course it's not how I would have written it, but that's not important. A statement right from the Queen's mouth isn't being changed." He grabbed some sand and sprinkled it on the ink before blowing on the different sheets.

Then he smiled. Organizing the papers, he got up and walked to the door. He then proceeded to yell down the stairs. "Jakobsen! How far have we gotten with the layout for page one?"

"Almost done, why?"

"We're doing it over again!"

"WHAT?"

Elsa saw Master Hummel – smile? "We got a new front page story, Jakobsen! I want the biggest type you've got for the headline, and we're pushing everything else below the fold!"

She watched as Master Hummel held his notepaper, grinning from ear to ear. "And we might be able to forget the Society section for today. I have a feeling we're going to need all of the paper we can get for Section A just to keep up with demand."

Watching the newspaperman grin and gloat, Elsa took a deep breath. _Well … that's that._

Her eyes drifted to the lone window in the office. It actually had a view onto the palace, of all things.

_I just hope this works …_

* * *

**To all of you who guessed that the "accident" was no accident – I hope you like being right. :)**

**And of course I want to thank all of my reviewers: Batman1809, WinterKnight2104, fnaticz, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, Jacob Flores, covsoc, CrunchDeNumbers, RJCA27, .5, TheHumanCanvas, and homers8736. And thank you and welcome to new reviewers magiclover13, DisneyandWildKrattfangirl, .507, and Penmaster1547.**

**In the next chapter, the plot gets even thicker (if that were possible). Stay tuned and see you all next time!**


	26. Some People are Worth Melting For

**Thanks to all of my awesome reviewers: Jacob Flores, Penmaster1547, bandgeek63, Batman1809, tyler. werner. 507, fnaticz, homers8736, El Trombonisto,** **RJCA27, TheHumanCanvas, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, and CrunchDeNumbers! And thanks and welcome to new reviewers against a sea of troubles and taylorjago!**

**If you're wondering why I'm doing this at the beginning instead of at the end, like I normally do … you'll see.**

* * *

Chapter 26: Some People are Worth Melting For

"… Whoa," Anna murmured, sinking onto the sofa. Casting a sidelong look at Kristoff, whose head was tilted to the side as he watched Anna, Elsa sat next to her sister.

"You just … _whoa_." The newspaper Anna still held started to rattle. Elsa resisted the urge to pluck it from her hands. She knew how annoying that could be, and this was only a newspaper, not something that could break or spill if Anna's hands shook too much.

Anna gulped. Slowly, she folded up the newspaper and put it to the side. "Are … ok, maybe it's a little late to take it back now, but … Elsa, are you sure about this?"

"Sure about what?" asked Kristoff.

Elsa glanced sidelong at Anna. Without a word, Anna took the newspaper. She perched on the bed next to Kristoff. "I'll read it to you."

"I _can_ read, you know," Kristoff huffed.

"Right, but your head got banged up worse than Elsa's did. If the doctor said no reading for her, that means no reading for you." Anna cleared her throat. "_Citizens of Arendelle …_"

As Anna read, Elsa watched Kristoff's face. He didn't look any better than he did yesterday – in fact he looked worse, since the bruises had some time to develop. And since he wasn't taking as much laudanum today, the pain he was in was all too obvious. She could only imagine what he looked like underneath the warm woolen nightshirt and copious blankets.

She didn't particularly like to think about it.

But she watched him, his face, for as long as she could. She watched the surprise dance across his features, followed by confusion and finally anger.

When the anger came, Elsa's gaze dropped.

She waited until Anna got to the last line. Then she spoke before Kristoff could. "Kristoff, I am _so_ sorry—"

"What? _You're_ sorry?" asked Kristoff. "This—this—" He looked between Anna and Elsa. Anna's expression was faintly inviting, and for some reason that made Kristoff flush. "This _really bad person_ jumps you, puts a knife to your throat, and tries to blackmail you? And _you're_ sorry?"

Elsa took a deep breath. "Kristoff, obviously if I'd gone with what he said – or tried to – turn the tables on him, you … might not be in here."

"Are you kidding? What else could you do?" Kristoff asked. "Do you honestly think that he would have stayed away from Arendelle if you'd gone along with his plans?"

Elsa snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. And trying to turn the tables on him? He's _dangerous_, Elsa. He came too damn close to killing the two of you once!"

After a minute Kristoff seemed to realize what he had said. "Oh sh—"

Anna put her hand over his mouth. "Don't want you keeling over from embarrassment from swearing in front of the Queen _twice_ now."

Kristoff groaned and leaned his head back against the pillows. After a moment, Anna removed her hand from his mouth. She leaned down, and Elsa looked away.

"It was just a forehead kiss, Elsa," Anna said after a minute. "You can look up now."

"Sorry," Elsa muttered. She ran a hand over her face. "So … you're truly not mad, Kristoff?"

"Um … well …" Kristoff gulped, and his right hand flexed in a fist. "I'm not mad at _you_ …"

"Well, as mad as you are, you can't go attempting to put a few new holes into Hans with your ice pick just yet," Anna replied with a shrug. She swung her legs onto the bed and cuddled against Kristoff's side – his right side, the relatively uninjured side. Kristoff didn't look at all uncomfortable; in fact, he seemed just the opposite. "As much as he might deserve it."

"It's too bad that you punched him into the fjord only after Elsa brought it back up to summer temperature," Kristoff sighed.

Anna could only shrug. "Sorry. Next time I'll improve my timing." She hesitated. "Come to think about it, what are the odds that Hans was on the ship we were standing on?"

"Come to think about it, what are the odds that any of us were standing on a ship?" asked Elsa, shaking her head.

"Your sister brings up an excellent point," Kristoff remarked to Anna.

"Oh please. Are you seriously suggesting that after everything we went through, Elsa would have melted everything and dumped us in the fjord so we would have to swim to shore?" Anna rolled her eyes. "I refuse to accept that. The gods have a better sense of …" Anna made a vague motion with her hands. "_Dramatic necessities_ than that."

"… Anna, what is that even supposed to mean?" Kristoff asked, relieving Elsa, since that meant she didn't have to.

"It means that after all the crap we went through, an impromptu swim back to shore would just be superfluous. Especially since Elsa over here can't swim," Anna pointed out.

Kristoff turned to Elsa with his jaw hanging open, and Elsa could only shrug. "I spent most of childhood isolating myself from humanity for the good of humanity, remember?"

"Oh … right …" Kristoff glanced at Anna. "Can you swim?"

"Sure thing! Papa and Mama taught me when I was small." Anna glanced speculatively across the room at Elsa. "Say … maybe …"

The chiming of the bells from the chapel forestalled Anna's question. Elsa got up. "I should get changed for dinner—"

"Aww, Elsa, why don't you stay with us?" Anna asked. "I don't like the thought of you eating all by yourself, in the great hall or in your bedroom or anywhere else."

"I can always invite Olaf," Elsa said with a small smile.

"He can't eat with you. He can sit with you but he can't eat with you," Anna replied. "And we can invite Olaf here, too. And," she added, "we can invite _Nick_ …"

Elsa was flushing, and Kristoff and Anna could both see, and there was nothing she could do about it. She gulped. "Well it's—um—up to Kristoff. I mean—are you feeling up to it?"

"Dinner? Sure thing. Even if it's _invalid _food." Kristoff rolled his eyes.

"Oh, stop it, you big baby. You said Cook's chicken soup was good enough to make being sick worth it."

Now it was Kristoff's turn to flush. "Well—maybe it is—but still, any food is invalid food if your … someone has to cut it up into bite-sized pieces for you."

"Baby," replied Anna.

"Exactly!"

Elsa giggled behind her hand, causing both of them to look at her. "Um," she said, smoothing out her skirt. "Sorry. I—anyway, Kristoff, are you sure you're up for … extra company?"

"Sure thing. I spent most of the day asleep." He grinned. "Invite Nick, too. He's a good guy."

Elsa couldn't explain why his words made her feel so warm and fluttery. But she did get up and ring the bell with a smile on her face.

And when a maid came to see what was necessary, in addition to asking her to invite Nick and find Olaf, Elsa told her to make sure Cook knew that Kristoff requested another serving of chicken soup.

They passed the hour before dinner in conversation and laughter – just as they had so many nights before Hans came sailing back into their lives. Olaf found his way to them early on, and Nick came right before the dinner hour. He was the only one who had bothered to dress for dinner, and the discomfort was easy to see on his face.

At least, it was easy to say until Anna dashed to Kristoff's wardrobe, pulled out one of his few tailcoats, and put it around Kristoff's shoulders while she wrestled his one good arm into it. "There!" she said, surveying her handiwork. "Now Nick won't feel so conspicuous!"

Nick's eyebrows rose, surveying the stewing Kristoff: bandages, nightshirt, blankets, tailcoat and all. "Princess Anna … you know, you would be right there."

Dinner was fun. Even if Kristoff grumbled about being fed like a baby (at least until Anna threated to actually feed him like a baby), there was more laughter than silence, more smiles than frowns. Cook sent up enough chicken soup for all of them; Nick told stories about his boyhood in Weselton; Olaf showed them a new trick he'd learned (juggling his own head).

It was the best evening Elsa had had in a long time. Hans wasn't mentioned, nor was the article in the paper. Elsa barely even thought about either.

She wished the evening could have lasted forever. However, too soon Gerda came in with an armful of blankets and pillows to make up a bed for Anna on the sofa. ("And this bed had better have been slept in when I come back in the morning, young lady!") Kristoff was looking tired, so Elsa decided to take the hint and wish him and Anna good night. Olaf and Nick followed her lead.

As soon as they were out the door, Nick offered her his arm, Olaf skipping on ahead. "So … Elsa … um … I heard about the article in the paper …"

"… Oh," Elsa squeaked.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Nick said hurriedly. "I just … blast …" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose—what I was trying to say is—do you want to come stargazing with me tonight?"

Elsa's eyes went wide.

"It's just—I know it makes me feel better when I've had some … rough days," Nick replied. "Maybe it will do the same for you?"

"Nick … I …" Elsa turned to him, squeezing his hands in hers. "Being with _you_ makes me feel better after a rough day. But …" She sighed. "I have a meeting tomorrow with the Council at eight o'clock – and they are not going to be happy with me." She shook her head. "And we've all seen what happens when I have to deal with upset Councilors after not getting enough sleep." She turned a brief pleading glance at him. "Can I—can we do it again some other night? Perhaps Friday or Saturday?"

Somewhat to her surprise, Nick smiled before he kissed her forehead. "Sure we can. I'd say I understand that you need your beauty sleep," he chuckled, "except, really, you don't."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Elsa giggled.

"Even if it's true?" Nick asked.

Elsa's answer was to step a little closer to him, letting go of his hands only to hesitantly put her arms around him. Nick's return embrace was nearly instant, and Elsa sank into it with a sigh of relief.

"Aww, warm hugs! Let me join in!" That was all the warning they got before a little snowman collided into their legs, hugging them both.

For a moment Elsa embraced Nick tighter, a silent apology for all the crazy that she brought with her, something she was sure his mother never warned him about when she warned him about girls like her. If Nick's mother even thought to warn him about girls like her. Then she let go, dropping to her knees to catch Olaf in the hug.

Nick dropped to his knees too, and the three of them together was the most perfect warm hug Elsa could remember being part of.

Of course it ended too soon. Nick kissed her forehead again before getting up silently, leaving Olaf and Elsa hugging each other. Elsa stared over Olaf's head and watched him go down the corridor.

"Elsa?" Olaf finally asked.

"Yes, little buddy?"

"Can I stay in your room tonight?"

"Oh, Olaf." Elsa hugged him tighter. "You can always stay in my room. You don't have to ask."

* * *

Elsa was sleeping. Olaf had cuddled with her until her head started to droop and her eyes finally closed, but when she was well and truly asleep, Olaf had wiggled out of her arms and off the bed. It wasn't much fun giving warm hugs when the other person wasn't awake enough to hug at all.

He had wandered over to the big fireplace where a roaring fire was, and he had watched it for a while. He could have watched the big fire for hours. The problem was that the fire wasn't a big, roaring fire anymore. It was now a small, humming fire, slowly banking down and growing less and less with every passing moment.

And the room was getting colder.

Olaf swiveled his head to look at Elsa, but from his vantage point, all he could see were a couple of lumps in the blankets. He came closer.

With every step it got a little colder. Olaf frowned. He was like Elsa in that he could easily tell the difference between heat and cold, but he was never sure when the cold got too much for other people – people-people, not snowman-people. And trying to tell when the cold would be bad for Elsa was even harder.

What was worse, though, was that Elsa was moaning and whimpering in her sleep, tossing from side to side.

Olaf stood stock still and watched for a moment. Should he wake her up? She was having a nightmare, wasn't she? Wasn't it a good thing to wake people up if they were having nightmares?

Then he remembered what she had said to Nick earlier. _"And we've all seen what happens when I have to deal with upset Councilors after not getting enough sleep."_ Olaf had heard about that – how upset Elsa had been, and how she had to shoot ice at a wall to keep her from having another bad accident. He didn't want that to happen.

But what could he do?

Elsa's bed was starting to frost over, the frost starting under her fingertips and slowly spreading.

Olaf frowned as he tried to think.

Finally he had it. He'd get some more firewood! That would make the fire come higher and take the edge off the cold. Maybe that would help Elsa sleep better. He liked it when it got hot, so maybe Elsa would, too.

At any rate it was worth a try. Olaf tip-toed to the end table, where the bell pull was …

He stopped. Didn't bells ring? He wanted to be quiet …

After a moment, he started tip-toeing over to the door, which he slowly opened.

There was a guard standing outside it, a big man (from Olaf's perspective) standing at attention. He started when the door started to open. "Your Majesty?" he asked, turning around.

The guard's eyes went wide when he didn't see anybody there at first. Olaf had to clear his throat before the guard looked down.

When he did, his face creased into a smile. "Why, hello there, little fellow," he said, patting the top of Olaf's head. "What's got you up at such a late hour?"

"Oh, I don't sleep," Olaf answered with a bucktooth grin. "But … um …" He looked behind him, then gestured for the guard to bend down so Olaf could whisper in his ear. "Elsa's getting cold. Do you think you could get some more wood so we can give her a bigger fire?"

The guard's eyebrows went up, and he frowned. "Well … I can see why you wouldn't want the Queen getting cold … but I can't be seen to …"

An idea seemed to come to him, and he snapped his fingers. "There's a porter at the end of the next hall. Tell you what, little fellow, how about I go ask him? You can guard the Queen while I go. How's that sound?"

"That sounds great!" Olaf straightened up and saluted, even if his arms didn't quite reach all the way. The guard smiled in the weird way people would when they saw Olaf tried to salute.

Olaf marched to the guard's old spot. "Corporal Olaf reporting for duty, sir!"

"Good lad! You'll be a regular guardsman before you know it." The guard patted Olaf's head again, making Olaf giggle. Then he hurried down the corridor and turned the corner.

As for Olaf, he snapped his heels together (or tried to) and stood at attention (or tried to), staring straight ahead.

He kept standing that way when he heard the guard's voice say, "Here now—what's all this?"

He kept standing that way when he heard the guard shout, "Hey!"

He kept standing that way when he heard a sudden thump, then a bump, and finally a gurgle.

But he stopped standing that way when he heard a panicked voice gasp, "Oh gods—is he dead?" That was when Olaf looked up and down the corridor, for all that he couldn't actually see anything.

He _knew_ that voice …

"Not dead. But it wouldn't matter if he was." There was slight pause. "Better him that us."

If Olaf had had blood, it would have run cold.

He'd only heard that person say a couple of things – but he _knew_ that voice.

_Hans!_

Olaf looked from side to side. Hans was _here_ – and the guard wasn't – and –

And Olaf was right now the only thing standing between Hans and Elsa.

He looked at the white door with its blue rosemaling paint. He couldn't let Hans get to Elsa again. He'd hurt her badly last time – she couldn't do anything for days. What if he did that again?

What if he did something _worse_?

With one last look at the door, Olaf realized something. Elsa was back there, and she was in danger, even if she didn't know it. The guard wasn't doing anything.

That left Olaf.

_Well, I'm not going to let anybody hurt my Elsa!_ Taking a deep breath, Olaf charged down the corridor.

"Hey! Hey you! Get out of here! I'm not going to let you hurt Elsa!"

He rounded the corridor to find three surprised-looking men – plus the guard in a heap at their feet. The first was Hans; Olaf would know those green eyes anywhere, even if he didn't have the sideburns anymore. The other two—

The man to the left of Hans was short, with hair that used to be yellow but was getting a lot lighter now. He gasped. "It's her snowman!"

Olaf's eyes bugged. The familiar voice! And now he could place it! "Hey, I know you! You're Knut!"

The third man, average height and kind of thin, looked at Knut. "How the hell does the snowman know your name?"

"And I know you too!" He pointed to the other man. "You're Roahl!"

Knut and Roahl exchanged glances. But Hans's eyes had narrowed. "And how do you intend to stop us, little snowman?" He snorted. "After all, I managed to make short work of your big brother."

"First of all, Marshmallow's my _little_ brother, and second of all, Elsa fixed his leg up and he's just fine!" Olaf shot back.

"Oh, she did, did she? How nice," Hans replied. His words might be nice, but his voice didn't sound nice at all. "But you didn't answer my question. How do you," he knelt down at Olaf's level, "intend to stop me?"

Olaf's only reply was to punch him in the nose.

Hans darted back with a strangled, "Gah!" But that was all he did. He wrinkled his nose a couple of times before turning back to Olaf.

"That's not going to work, little fellow," he said. He grabbed Olaf by the twig-hairs and popped his head off. "You don't pack near as good a punch as that little—"

Hans stopped. Even though Olaf's body was kicking his legs, he didn't seem to notice. He looked behind him at the one door in the corridor that stood open.

Olaf gasped. That was _Anna's_ door!

"You don't pack as much of a punch as Princess Anna in more ways than one," Hans mused. "But all the same …"

He turned to Olaf and grinned. Olaf now understood how a baby reindeer felt when a wolf smiled at him. He couldn't have said a word if he tried. "You'll do. Give me the bag, Knut."

"What—sir?"

"The _bag_, Knut."

With shaking hands, Knut took out a burlap sack. It was a big burlap sack, one that could hold a lot of stuff – or maybe a person who wasn't so big.

Without further conversation, Hans dropped Olaf's head in the sack. His head was followed swiftly by his torso, butt, and legs.

_Uh oh …_ Olaf thought.

"Come on, gentlemen," he heard Hans say as he shouldered the bag. "We didn't get what we came for—but we're close enough. Let's go."

* * *

Elsa bolted upright in bed. "OLAF!"

Her room was covered in white, but Elsa barely noticed. She rolled out of the bed, fighting the sheets every inch of the way. The fabric had wound around her tighter than the manacles Hans had put around her hands. But finally she fought her way loose and took off running.

Her bare feet pounded over the plush carpets, turning the corner to find—

Nothing. No Olaf. No Hans. No Knut or Roahl. Nothing and nobody but a knocked-out guard.

_Oh gods—Olaf—where are you—_

She gasped and stumbled as a vision seared across her mind.

_Darkness. A constant up-and-down motion. The sound of water lapping all around._

"_Are you sure taking the snowman will work?" asked a gruff, grumbling voice._

"_Oh, trust me." Hans. "This will work. She'll be ready to do whatever we want before a day has passed."_

Elsa came back to herself with a gasp.

_Hans—out on the water—with Olaf—_

She felt a faint tug on her heart, like a child tugging her hand. Elsa looked up and saw Anna's door, slightly ajar.

_The fjord! Anna's room looks over it!_

Elsa ran into the room to the triangular window. She looked out.

Maybe she was only able to see it because she knew precisely where to look. But in the ice-clogged, dark fjord, there was nevertheless one spot that was darker than all of the rest.

_Hang in there, little guy! I'm coming!_

She turned, ready to start running down the corridor and out of the castle. But the minute her bare foot touched the carpet, the rest of her mind caught up with her.

_Wait._

Her father's voice whispered to her as if from a long way off. _"Don't hurry, Elsa. Don't rush. There is never enough time for you to hurry."_

_Think, Elsa!_

She was about to run after Hans by herself, barefoot and in her nightgown. Yes, she had ice powers. But she was vulnerable to crossbow bolts, knives, and chandeliers falling on her head.

Going after Olaf by herself was a good way to get killed. And she wasn't about to leave Anna with this mess.

First things first. Elsa threw her nightgown off, closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them again, she was wearing something like Kristoff's ice harvesting outfits: loose trousers, a thick sweater, and a hardy leather tunic. Except in her case the tunic wasn't leather, but rather slightly thicker snow and ice.

Her feet were still bare, but she was standing in Anna's room … Anna, who had the biggest boot collection in all of Arendelle …

And she and Anna wore the same size shoes.

She dove into the wardrobe. _Sorry, Anna,_ she thought, _but you borrow my "cute" shoes without asking all the time._

It took her a minute, since Anna took to organization like a duck to lava, but finally she came up with the pair Anna had bought to go ice harvesting with Kristoff. They were thick, and while warmth or lack thereof didn't matter too much, thick was good.

That was taken care of, then. The next part … the next part would be more difficult.

_Backup. Olhouser will never let me go. But I need backup—_

_Wait._

_Why does Olhouser have to know?_

Elsa hurried back into the corridor.

The guard still lay on the ground. Elsa knelt by his side. He was breathing easily, and he was starting to groan.

"Sorry," Elsa whispered, before she started unleashing snow onto his head.

The guard gasped and snorted, finally sitting up. When his eyes opened, Elsa recognized him: Sergeant Aagesen.

"Sergeant!" Elsa whispered, helping him sit up all the way. She conjured a snowball for him to hold to his head. "Are you all right? Do you remember what happened?"

"I …" The guard rubbed his neck. "Oh gods! Westergaard!"

"He's gone," Elsa said, grabbing the Sergeant's shoulders before he could try to stand. "He's escaped. And he took Olaf."

Sergeant Aagesen blinked. "The little fellow? How?"

"I think—I think Olaf went after him. Don't ask me how I know that," Elsa added. "It's too much for me to explain."

"We—we must rouse the castle!" said the Sergeant, trying to stand. "Sound the alarm! Get every—"

"No!" Elsa held him down. "No. Right now, we have surprise on our side. We need to go after Hans and Olaf _now_, Sergeant. We can't let those men have him for a second longer than necessary. Because Hans …" Elsa bit her lip. "Did you, by chance, happen to read the paper this evening?"

Sergeant Aagesen blinked. "You think that Westergaard will try to use the little fellow for leverage?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Gods above," he whispered.

"But if we go after Hans now—he won't be expecting that," Elsa said. "He won't have time to prepare. We could—we could _end_ this. All of this. Now."

"But Your Majesty, it will take hours to get an expedition ready! And we don't even know where they are!"

"We don't have hours. Every minute we delay is another minute for Hans to prepare. And I know …"

Elsa hesitated. She felt that tug again—but it didn't tell her where they were. Just a direction to go in.

"I'll find them," Elsa said. "Trust me."

Sergeant Aagesen stared at her. "Your Majesty … this will be dangerous."

"I know. But letting Hans gain the upper hand is more dangerous."

Slowly, Sergeant Aagesen nodded. "All—all right. What—what will you have me do, Your Majesty?"

"Find five—yes—find five other guards. Men you'd trust with your life," Elsa replied. "Tell them to meet me by the south postern gate."

"The postern gate? But that lets out onto the water …"

Elsa looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Er—right. Right. Of course." Sergeant Aagesen rubbed his head. "Are you sure about this, Your Majesty?"

"As sure as I've ever been about anything." Elsa stood and helped Sergeant Aagesen to his feet. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. I know firsthand how a blow to the head from Hans feels."

"Ha! I think my skull is a little thicker than yours, Your Majesty." All the same, Sergeant Aagesen rubbed his head. "Besides, whatever Olhouser will do to me when he finds out that I let you do this, he'll do it _worse_ when he finds out I didn't go out there with you."

"Don't worry about Olhouser. I'll keep him off your back. After all, I'm the Queen, aren't I?" Elsa asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Was it Elsa's imagination, or did Sergeant Aagesen smile? "That you are, Your Majesty. Now get to the postern gate. I'll get the boys."

* * *

It was easy enough to get to the postern gates when you had the powers of winter at your command. Whenever Elsa thought a guard might spot her, a quick burst of winter air caused a portrait, chair, or suit of armor to fall over. The ensuing noise and ensuing, "Who's there?" gave her plenty of time sneak past.

What wasn't so easy was waiting by the gate for the men to show up. Elsa paced, leaving trails of ice and snow in her wake.

But Sergeant Aagesen did come with five other guards with him.

_Thank the gods!_ Elsa managed a shaky smile before the fear came back.

She had to say something, though, before they left. "Men? You—Sergeant Aagesen told you where we were going and why we were going there?"

The men nodded.

"Good. I know—I know this is dangerous, but—I think this is a good chance. It might be the best chance we have to end this quickly, before Hans hurts anyone else.

"And—and I assure you, even if you think it's not right to be putting yourself at risk for a snowman—"

"A snowman?" asked one of the guards, Corporal Lauritsen. "That's not a snowman, that's Olaf!"

"Aye! We're not letting anyone get Olaf!"

"Certainly not that bastard Westergaard!"

Elsa let out a deep sigh of relief. "Thank—thank you, men. I assure you, once we get out of this, you won't find me ungrateful."

She took a deep breath and felt that tug again. It felt a little more urgent this time.

_Hang in there, Olaf. I'm coming for you._

"Come on, men. We need to go." She looked up at the sky as she opened up the gate. "I think—I think we've said and thought of everything that needs to be said and thought of."

She went out. The men followed.

But there was something that she hadn't thought of.

When Elsa chose the south postern gate, she hadn't thought of the south tower.

She hadn't thought that somebody might be watching there.

She hadn't thought that somebody would notice the ice path she made over the fjord.

And she certainly never thought that somebody, seeing that, would hurry down the stairs, out of the tower, and out the postern gate behind her.

* * *

**I'm already ~2,000 words into Chapter 27. Granted, it's going to be a long one, but still. Progress is being made!**

**Thanks for reading, and see you all next time!**


	27. The Monster

Chapter 27: The Monster

"I think they're in there."

She thought. She hoped. But ever since Elsa and her men had entered the warehouse district, her confidence in being able to find Olaf had begun to ebb. It wasn't that the tugging feeling grew weaker. The tugging grew stronger. The problem was that there were so many warehouses.

But she thought this was the one. The tugging was strongest here, nearly constant. If she took a step to the right or the left, the direction of the tugging changed just a fraction. This _had_ to be the place.

That being said, Elsa ducked back into the alley with her men. Only the width of the lane separated them from the warehouse. "Well, gentlemen? What do you propose?"

The men looked at Sergeant Aagesen, who was stroking his chin. Elsa could hear a faint rasping sound. "Frontal assault would be stupid," he said. "There are seven of us, and we have no idea how many are in there."

Elsa looked over her shoulder at the silent, snow-banked warehouse. How many confederates was Hans – to say nothing of Knut and Roahl – likely to have? Hans had a glib tongue, but it wasn't like he could go out rabble-rousing.

"Your Majesty, what can you do?" asked Sergeant Aagesen.

Elsa looked at her hands. "There's very little I can do that would hurt Olaf," she said. "But I can make things very unpleasant for anyone inside there." She frowned. "However … I don't think I can do it blind."

She frowned, turning to look at the warehouse. "I could set off a blizzard in there," Elsa said. "But I don't know how much good that would do. If—if I can _see …_"

If she could see she could create ice spikes. If she could see, she could send wind barreling in this direction or that. There were any number of things she could do, if only she could see what she was doing.

"Your Majesty, maybe we can smoke them out?" asked Corporal Lauritsen. "So to speak. I know I'd run like … all get out, if a blizzard started inside the building I was in."

Elsa blinked. "That's a … good thought," she replied.

"And even if Westergaard and his close confederates don't come out, we can at least flush out some of the others. Good idea," Sergeant Aagesen nodded. "And then what?"

_Then what?_ "We don't know how many there are in there—but we ought to be able to tell when the flow stops or slows. That's when we move in. I can—I can start off with ice spikes right in front of the door, and once we get inside …"

Elsa stopped. "I—I have no idea. I don't know what—what kinds of weapons they have or—"

"Don't worry about the specifics. It's a good start of a plan," said Sergeant Aagesen. "No battle plan lasts five minutes into engagement with the enemy, anyway. So. Once we're in, what do you want to do, and what do you want us to do?"

Elsa narrowed her eyes. "I have to find Olaf. Unless—unless they've got him in plain sight, I'm the only one who can. And …" She flexed her fingers. "My ice spikes can pin men down. Very effectively. I think—I think what I'll try to do is use ice spikes to pin down Hans, Knut, Roahl—the ringleaders. You—you gentlemen …"

"We keep you alive," said Corporal Lauritsen.

Elsa swallowed. She looked around the circle of men. Sergeant Aagesen, Corporal Lauritsen, Corporal Ulfsen, Corporal Havardsen, Corporal Enoksen, Sergeant Pedersen – these men barely knew her. She barely knew them. And here they were, ready to charge headlong into danger to keep her alive.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for—everything."

"This is our duty, Your Majesty," said Corporal Havardsen. He was the youngest of the guards, barely older than Elsa herself, if that.

"Aye. It's what we signed up for. Danger's part of it." That was Sergeant Pedersen, the only one she knew at all. He had once pushed her mother out of the way of a madman's crossbow bolt. He had a scar running down the length of his face to prove it.

Elsa gulped. "Still—you have my thanks. And … when we get back, your courage will not go unrewarded."

She peeked out of the alley again. "Is there—is there anything else?"

"I don't think—"

_Crunch._

All of them froze. They had all heard the telltale sound of a foot on snow.

"To hell with plans, we move, _now_," said Sergeant Aagesen. "No chances! Men, surround the Queen. Your Majesty, tell us when you think you've got the blizzard going."

Elsa nodded and they headed out, Elsa in the middle of a circle of six guards. Sergeant Aagesen and Corporal Ulfsen flanked her so closely that she could barely see beyond them. But she started circling her hands together, imagining clouds and snow starting to brew inside the warehouse. The storm inside her perked up in response.

The only warning they had before the bolt came was a thin whistling noise.

Then Sergeant Aagesen fell.

"The Queen! DOWN!" shouted—Corporal Enoksen? Elsa couldn't tell. She barely had a moment to gasp before she was being tackled and pushed to the ground for the second time in a day. The storm threatened to rage, and Elsa had to clamp down on the ice before it could escape.

This time, there were at least two men on top of her, and three more flanked her on other sides. Elsa fought to get her head out so she could see who was shooting and how to stop them.

She didn't have a chance. "Do you think I'm a _fool_, Elsa?" shouted someone from the top of the warehouse.

Hans. The storm churned.

"Have you never heard of military training? _Don't you think I'd post scouts_?"

"Son of a—" started Corporal Lauritsen, but someone elbowed him before he could finish.

"But, once again, your lack of foresight is to my advantage. I have no fewer than six crossbowmen up here with me, Elsa. I see _one snowflake_ out of you, and your men will be poked full of holes before you can say icicle. Do I make myself clear?"

"Your Majesty, don't listen to him," whispered Corporal Havardsen. "You can—"

Elsa lifted her hand to silence him. Then, slowly, so as to startle neither her men nor Hans and his men, she lifted her head.

She could just see the silhouette of a tall, slender man balanced on the warehouse roof. She could see three men flanking him. But given her poor vantage point, she did not want to assume that those were the only men there.

"Why aren't we poked full of holes already, Hans?" asked Elsa.

She could hear several gasps – from her side and from up on the warehouse roof. One of the shadows moved like he was aiming a crossbow.

"Steady," said Hans. Then he chuckled. "Why aren't you poked full of holes? Because I need you alive, Elsa! Your … creative little story you had printed in the paper this evening gave me a _brilliant_ idea."

_So that's how he's going to play it?_ Elsa looked at the three men flanking Hans. Too bad they were too far away to read the expressions on their faces. She took a deep breath.

_Don't challenge him. Don't make him angry. Don't make him desperate. Just … keep him talking._

What she was supposed to do after she kept him talking was not something she had clearly planned, but … baby steps would do for now.

"What kind of idea was that, Hans?" asked Elsa.

"An idea to end our little battle, of course!" Hans laughed. "You give my—friends here and I a ship of the line and free passage out of Arendelle's waters. After that, we are no longer your problem. Granted, it's not as satisfying to you as your little lie in the papers, but it does remove two problems for you. So, what say you, Elsa?"

_A SHIP OF THE LINE? Is he MAD?_

"And why would I do that, Hans?" Elsa asked, even though she knew the answer.

"We both know why. Because if you don't, your precious little snowman goes face-first into a very large fire. I doubt that annoying little cloud that followed us here would do much against a fire.

"In fact," Hans crooned, "your little snowman might be getting uncomfortably close to the flames even now …"

_No! NO! I would know! I—_

Elsa blinked.

_But … _he_ doesn't know that … only Nick saw …_

She swallowed and tried to make her voice quaver. It was embarrassingly easy. "Don't hurt him! He's never done any harm to anyone!"

"If I remember correctly from the story that was given in court, him sticking his nose where it didn't belong cost—" Hans stopped. "It cost me my freedom and my reputation, and it might yet cost me my life."

_So he's still trying to fool them._

"But I'm getting impatient, Elsa, and those flames might very well be getting hotter. So. Are you going to save your snowman? Do we have an accord?"

Elsa swallowed. "Hans—if you think I'm going to agree that easily, you're mad!"

She thought she saw him start. She kept going. "I have no reason to trust you. How do I know that you – that you haven't already melted Olaf? How do I know that you have anything to bargain with? You could be bluffing and planning to leave me with nothing!

"And—and remember this, Hans." Elsa swallowed, the storm starting to rise again. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep it inside. "My ice can stop crossbow bolts. I don't know whether you would be faster on a first strike or I would. But I would be faster on a second. And if you have spilled so much as a _drop_ of my men's blood, you and your men will not survive a second strike!"

Silence. Elsa could just see the men flanking Hans start to shift uncomfortably.

"Perhaps … you bring up a good point. Perhaps." More silence.

Elsa waited, her heart pounding in her ears.

"Here. A gesture of goodwill. My men will put their crossbows down – _will put their crossbows down_," Hans snarled, and the men did so, "for five minutes for you to see to your wounded." He nodded to where Sergeant Aagesen lay motionless in the snow, his back to Elsa and the rest of the guards. "Or dead."

Elsa hesitated. Then, gathering her power to her and holding it close to her heart, she nodded. "Thank you," she said, somehow not choking on the words. "Corporal Ulfsen—see to Sergeant Aagesen, please."

The Corporal shot her a shocked look, but with a slow nod, he got up and hurried to the fallen Sergeant. Elsa watched him.

She watched him as he knelt by the Sergeant's side.

She watched him as his features froze in shock.

She watched him as he gulped and moved his head up and down.

Then she watched him as he removed his kepi with a shaking hand, and with the other hand reached for the Sergeant's face.

_No. No! NO!_

The snow burst out of her before she could stop it.

"She's doing it!" The voice was middle-aged and just shy of hysterical. "She's using her wicked magic! Be _gone_, foul—"

"NO!"

There was a whistle.

There was a cry.

There was a thud.

There was one less man standing on the roof with Hans. And there was Hans, his crossbow up, panting.

"Let me make one thing _absolutely_ clear," Hans snarled. "No one – NO ONE – is to shoot without my orders! _Is that understood_?"

None of the men on the roof answered.

"I _said_, is that UNDERSTOOD?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Aye, sir!"

"It is!"

"Understood, sir!"

"Excellent!" Hans snapped. He turned back down to them. "I apologize for that little—display. Now. Now that I've shown you not one, but _two_ gestures of goodwill—shall we, perhaps, go inside and negotiate like civilized people?"

Elsa hesitated. But what choice did she have? She couldn't stay out here until dawn—

Well, _she_ it would be far too cold for the men.

Slowly, Elsa nodded. She looked at her men and took a deep breath.

She wouldn't be getting any more of them killed tonight if she could help it. _I'm sorry, Sergeant. You deserved better than this._

"Very well, Hans. We'll come in."

* * *

Somehow, being surrounded by angry men wielding crossbows never got any easier.

Elsa could hear her heart pounding in her ears as she stepped closer to the middle of the warehouse. Her men were a few feet behind her, mostly for their own protection. They didn't like it, but they didn't have ice powers, and the rebels had disarmed them besides. Elsa couldn't be disarmed.

Behind the men was the door, heavily barred.

"Are you sure we shouldn't have searched her?" asked one of the rebels – an older man with thin, scraggly hair and an equally thin, scraggly beard. "_Thoroughly _searched her?"

He looked at Elsa and licked his lips in a way that made her shudder and hold her arms closer to her chest.

"Gods, no!" gasped the man called Knut – Elsa remembered that much from the dream. He was easy to spot. He was the one who was jittery, pale, and worn, pacing back and forth and holding his crossbow like he was afraid it might bite him. He also seemed familiar in a way that had nothing to do with her dream. "We—we are men of principle! Fighting for a cause! We are not … dogs!" He glared at the man called Roahl. "I _never_ should have listened to you about those illustrations!"

"We wouldn't have half as many followers if you hadn't," shrugged Roahl. He, too, was easy to spot. None of the other men gave off the impression of being a smoking volcano ready to blow. Whenever he glared at Elsa – which was frequently – Elsa knew exactly where the lava would go. He held his crossbow in both hands, the tip never pointed far from her heart.

He, too, looked familiar in a way that had nothing to do with her dream.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, enough. As Master Strand has often pointed out," Hans inclined his head to Knut, "even men fighting for a right cause can be seen as fighting for a wrong one if they let their baser instincts take hold of them. And offering insults to a member of the fair sex is an excellent way to let one's baser instincts take hold."

He clapped his hand. "Now, gentlemen! Fetch a chair for the Queen, so we can begin our little peace talks."

Someone walked forward with a crate. He sneered as he set it before Elsa, bowing and scraping as he backed away.

_I could conjure up a much better chair,_ Elsa thought dispassionately. But if there were five crossbows pointed toward her, there were ten pointed toward her men.

_Let them think they're winning. Let them think you're scared. Don't remind them of what you are._

"Thank you," Elsa said, and sat.

She instantly regretted it. The crate was just a few too inches too low to make a comfortable seat. Elsa's knees were angled awkwardly, and she had to crane her neck to see anything.

Hans didn't sit. He remained standing, looming over her, huge and grinning.

Elsa took a deep breath and allowed a flicker—just a flicker—of fear to show. Hans grinned to see it.

"So … Hans—"

She heard the _click_ of a crossbow's safety coming off. "That's _Your Highness_ to you!" roared Roahl, leveling his crossbow at her.

Elsa took a deep breath and added a layer of her hardest ice underneath the thick upper tunic, where the rebels wouldn't be able to see.

"Easy, Master Ramussen," said Hans. He put one hand on Roahl's crossbow and gently pushed it down. "Remember, I was engaged to the Queen's sister at one point. I think that puts us on a first-name basis."

He turned back to Elsa. "Now. Elsa. Let us discuss … terms. I have a very simple idea," he said, "and you can tell me how you like it."

Elsa only nodded.

He didn't try to force her to speak this time. Hans took a breath. "As we know, these gentlemen and I have your … little snow creature. Whereas you, as Queen, have a great deal of power, both political and magical. My solution is thus: you give us a ship of the line from your navy. Many of us are sailors," he gestured around the rebels, "so you need not fear for us being able to control the ship. So, we sail away in our fine ship, and you – and only you – follow us."

Hans smiled at her. "I'm sure you can work out some way to do so. Your talent for this kind of thing is known the world over.

"As I was saying. You follow us, alone, using only your sorcery and your wits to guide you. You will stay at a certain length behind us. And when we judge that the time is right … we'll throw the snow creature overboard. Then you can collect him and head back to Arendelle."

Hans shifted slightly, his crossbow pointing not entirely subtly in her direction. "So, do we have an accord?"

"Obviously I must consider this carefully," Elsa hedged, even as the ice inside of her urged her to freeze these men and be done with it. "Am I to assume that once you and the other men left, you would never return to Arendelle?"

"That is correct," Hans said, although the way he had to glare around the room indicated to Elsa that the other men might not be entirely on board with this. Or else he was lying to her. Or both.

"But does it need to be so very drastic …" Elsa let her eyes sweep over the crowd until she came again to Knut. "Gentlemen?"

Knut started, going even paler if that were possible.

"I am sure many of you have friends here … families … are you sure that you want to leave them forever? Are you sure you want to leave your homeland forever? Surely there must be another way," Elsa cajoled, or tried to.

Knut looked from Elsa to Hans and then to Roahl. Out of the corner of her eye, Elsa could see men shifting, scuffing the floor, looking anywhere but at each other.

"This is not—" Hans started.

"A negotiation?" asked Elsa, raising one eyebrow. "I thought this is exactly what this was."

"Our leaving Arendelle is non-negotiable," Hans snarled.

"Is it?" asked Knut. He seemed to jump as every eye in the room turned to him. "We—why should we leave? We want to bring Arendelle into a bright new age, not—"

"Knut, shut it. You're the only one who believes that utopia nonsense," Roahl snapped, rolling his eyes.

By the looks some of the men were shooting Roahl, Elsa thought he might be wrong about that. "If you want to improve things in Arendelle, why not talk to me about it? My enemies say plenty of things about me, but none have said that I am unwilling to listen if people have ideas that might improve the status of Arendelle and the lot of her citizens."

"Trade—trade with Weselton again?" asked Knut, sounding more than a little plaintive.

That was when Elsa remembered where she had seen him. Petition Day, back in January.

"_Your Majesty, I have been elected, you may say, as the representative of the merchants of Rosen. We have a petition for you. …_ _We are simply asking that you reopen trade with Weselton, effective immediately."_

But that was as far as she got before a sudden commotion at the door attracted all of their attention. Elsa turned to look, as did everyone else.

Three men were let in and the door hurried barred as soon as they were inside. The third was escorted between the first two. They were partially dragging him, partially frog marching him. His head was down, but Elsa's heart was already pounding.

"We found this one sneaking around," said one of the men. "He looked like he was going to do a runner and get the guards when the Queen and her men came in. So we grabbed him."

Just before they threw the third man onto the ground, he looked up. Elsa never knew how she kept the ice in, but she wasn't able to keep everything in.

"_NICK!_"

Nick blinked and stared in her direction. His spectacles were nowhere to be seen, but there was a bloody gash on the bridge of his nose and a cut above his right eye. And those were only the injuries Elsa could see.

The men threw him to the ground, and Elsa was up. But the sounds of crossbow after crossbow engaging forced her to stop moving.

Elsa took a deep breath. She turned to Hans. "Leave him alone."

"And why should I do that?" Hans asked, eyes narrowed.

Nick was struggling to get up. Elsa could see the pain written on his face. It was only the knowledge that she now had six men to keep alive that kept her standing still.

She looked at Knut. "He's Niklas Solberg. Ambassador from Weselton. If you want trade to resume, you won't harm him."

"Weselton?" gasped Knut.

"Solberg?" asked Hans.

Hans was the one to move. Nick had made it up to his knees; Hans crouched in front of him and grabbed Nick by the hair. When Nick cried out, it took all of Elsa's self-control not to ice Hans on the spot.

_Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel._

Hans didn't seem to care. He forced Nick's head up and stared at his face.

Then he let go, fast enough that Nick went sprawling to the ground again. "Definitely a Solberg. There's no mistaking _that_ nose."

He took a step back and rubbed his chin. Elsa held her breath, the ice at her fingertips itching for a release, the storm inside growing.

"We …" Knut stepped forward, hesitantly. "We can't harm him. He—he's Weselton's ambassador! If their ambassador is harmed, they'll never open up trade again!"

"I—" Hans started.

"Who the bloody hell cares?" roared Roahl. "Gods, Knut, wake up! We're leaving!"

"We don't have to!" Knut pointed at Elsa, luckily with his finger and not his crossbow. "She said we could stay! We don't have to cut and run! We could—we could—"

"And you _trust_ her?" interrupted Roahl. "Are you _mad_? This is the woman who froze the whole kingdom!" Now he was pointing at Elsa, only with his crossbow and not his finger. "And then she destroyed half of our trade, and for what? Petty revenge? For the actions of two, three men, how many lives did she destroy?"

"Gentlemen—" Elsa began.

"NOT A WORD FROM YOU!" Roahl roared, turning fully to her with the crossbow aimed for her heart. "By the gods! We all would have been better off if Prince Hans had just killed you on the fjord! Too bad he wasn't fast enough to do the job!"

Roahl was breathing heavily, his hands shaking as he leveled the crossbow at Elsa. Elsa slowly balled her hands into fists, ready to unleash the ice at any moment.

"But I … _I_ can be fast enough … I can save this kingdom …"

Elsa didn't dare speak. Every fiber of her being was concentrated on his fingers, trembling on the trigger of the crossbow.

"Master Ramussen," Hans said in a low, even voice, "I suggest you not shoot."

"_And why not_? Why shouldn't I finish the job you started all those months ago?"

He turned back to Elsa and started to squeeze—

"No! Roahl!" Knut grabbed his friend's arm. "You are not—"

_Click!_

_Whoosh!_

Knut stumbled back. So did Roahl.

Both were staring at the half of a crossbow bolt sticking out of Knut's side.

"A … killer …" Knut whispered.

Everyone watched as a small red stain slowly bubbled onto Knut's shirt. It got bigger.

With a horrified glance at the man he had called friend, Knut fell.

For a full second, everyone stared at Knut, curled in a ball on the ground and whimpering.

Everyone except Elsa.

_NOW!_

She unleashed the storm.

From nowhere wind and snow came, whipping around the warehouse. Ice spikes grew from the walls, the columns, every available surface. Elsa stomped on the floor and it was covered in the slickest ice she had ever created.

Counting on the snow to cover her from view, she ran to where she had last seen Nick. "Nick!"

"Elsa!"

She found him – the snow cleared, just a little, wherever she was looking, and it wasn't hard to find him sprawled on the ice. "Nick!" She ran to his side and helped him up. "We have to get you out of here—you're hurt!"

"I'm not leaving without you!"

"I can't go! I have to find Olaf!"

"They have _Olaf_?"

"MEN!" Elsa knew that fountain of rage spewing into the air. Only Roahl spoke like that. "Aim where the snow is thickest! We'll give that ice bitch more holes than a pincushion!"

Not thinking, Elsa cast thicker snow near where the voice had come from as well as three other places. "You have to go, it's too dangerous!" Elsa got Nick steady on his feet, more or less. "Can you skate?"

"What? Of course I can skate!"

Elsa pointed to his feet and shot power; two ice skates appeared. Nick slid until Elsa was able to help him steady himself. "You need to go! Find my men, get out, and get Captain Vilmarsen and his men!"

"_No_! I'm not leaving you!"

_Whistle!_

Elsa clung to Nick as a wall of ice surrounded them on all sides.

She waited half a second. When no bolt hit either of them, she let out a long breath.

She didn't have time to argue. "F—Fine. If you're sure. But we have to find my men and get them out!"

Nick nodded. His hand still around her waist – Elsa wasn't sure if he was clinging to her to support her or to support himself – he tried to look around. So did she.

_Where are you, where are you,_ she wondered, dispelling the ice and allowing the snow to become less thick wherever she was looking.

She saw a flash of dark teal and that was enough. Hooking her hand into Nick's, she ran and he skated in that direction. Ice walls grew on either side of them, covering them from crossbow fire.

When she was close enough to see the rest of her guards, knotted together in a protective circle as they tried to look through the swirling storm, she cast a wall of ice around them. Some yelped and jumped back, but Corporal Havardsen was bright enough to shout, "The Queen!"

"Men!" Elsa cast a roof over them, giving them a moment to breathe. "You need to get out of here! Nick and I will find Olaf, but you have to—"

"Your Majesty! We're not leaving!" shouted Corporal Lauritsen.

"We came here to protect you!"

"We're not leaving you alone in this!"

"I can't cover us all!" Elsa shouted back. "I'm not getting anyone else killed tonight! You are _leaving_, and that is an _order_!"

"Elsa, wait." Nick put a hand on her shoulder. "Let them help. You brought them for a reason."

_Yes, and then I got one of them killed! Gods, Nick, can't you see—_

"Let us go after the scum!" suggested Corporal Enoksen.

"Aye, let us!"

"We'll make short work of them!"

"They won't ever see us coming!"

Elsa's jaw dropped. "You don't even have weapons!"

"Your Majesty! You can make lots of sharp, pointy things from ice!" replied Corporal Lauritsen. "Make us weapons!"

"Aye, swords or pikes will do!"

Elsa put a hand to her head. _I cannot believe …_

She didn't have time to argue. "Fine. Fine! Stand back!" She shooed the men back, stared at her hand and concentrated.

A short sword grew up in it. She handed it to Corporal Ulfsen. "Can you handle this?"

He hissed when he took it, but he nodded. "Aye. It'll do. Good thing we're wearing gloves, though."

Elsa nodded and made four more blades. She glanced at Nick when she handed out the last one, but he shook his head before she could make another.

One more thing. She shot power at the men's feet, and five pairs of skates appeared.

"For the love of the gods, be _careful_," Elsa said as the men found their balance on the skates. "You've got an advantage of speed. But – they have distance weapons. And if any one of you can get out and get reinforcements, do it!"

The guards looked at each other. Finally Sergeant Pedersen saluted. "Yes, Your Majesty!"

"Aye, Your Majesty!"

"And one more thing. Once I find Olaf, we need to all retreat. I'll let the snow clear for a moment, and that will be our signal to get out. Understood?"

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

"Good." Elsa nodded. "May the gods grant you all good luck. Now let's go!"

Elsa snapped her fingers and the walls around them disappeared. The guards skated into the snowstorm, and Elsa let the snow behind them thicken to cover their retreat.

She took a deep breath, hoping and praying that the shouting she could hear was not her men.

Nick brought her back to herself. "How are we going to find Olaf?"

_Olaf! Where are you?_ Elsa closed her eyes.

She felt the tug again – up and to the right. She looked up, waving some of the snow away. There was a second floor up there, extending the length of the building.

Elsa stomped again, and a stairway of ice appeared. She grabbed Nick's hand and sent his skates away. "Come on!" she shouted.

Hand in hand they ran up, her stairway growing with every step they took.

They reached the top quickly. One quick slashing motion and the railing that stood between them and the second story was blown away. Her hand still securely in Nick's, Elsa pulled him forward. "This way!"

She paused only long enough to create an ice-wall between them and the fighting below. It also cut off the storm, leaving the second story quiet and blue, lit by her glowing ice.

"Come on!" shouted Elsa. They ran down the length of the building, Elsa following the tug in her heart and Nick following Elsa. Until Nick slipped and Elsa slipped too.

"I thought there wasn't any ice up here?" asked Nick as he regained his balance.

Elsa looked down. "There … isn't …" But there were patches of a glistening _something_ on the floor.

"It's whale oil."

Elsa and Nick looked up. Hans stood in front of them, a squirming sack in one hand. A squirming, wet sack.

_Olaf!_

In his other hand, he held a match. It wasn't lit—yet.

"Ramussen used to deal in it. He had," Hans smirked, "quite a bit accumulated before you cut off trade. It's come in handy. One wrong move, Elsa, and your little snowman is going up in flames."

"Sir! Are you _insane_?" shouted Nick. "You'll set the whole second floor on fire!"

"Oh, I doubt it. Not with Queen Elsa here." He chortled. "She might not be fast enough to save her little snowman, but she'll put the fire out. _Everyone_ knows that she's good at putting out fires."

Hans grinned at her. "Isn't that right, Elsa?"

Elsa could hear her heart hammering in her ears, but she refused to take her eyes off the sack. "Put Olaf down, Hans. You can't win this."

"Certainly I can. I still have your snowman." Hans shrugged. "All I need from you is a clear passage to the door … and you …" He turned to Nick. "Diplomatic immunity can be useful for _so_ many things. You'll arrange for my passage to Weselton. I'll deliver this fellow to your father, perhaps have tea with your uncle, and then—well, then you never need hear from me again. On my word of honor."

The bag was still squirming. But as she watched, it wasn't squirming so much as … rocking. Rocking from side to side, picking up a little more speed and distance with every swing.

_Good boy, Olaf!_ She glared at Hans. _Keep him talking …_

"I don't like the thought of the one person who tried to kill me having a chat with the other person who ordered my death," Elsa snapped.

"That's lovely. You'll like the thought of your little snowman going up in smoke still less." Hans held the match closer to the ice-wall. "This isn't a negotiation, Elsa. You and the Ambassador do what I want, or the little snowman becomes a puddle."

She let her eyes flicker again to the bag. Olaf only needed a couple more swings before he would be able to come into contact with Hans.

_Or …_

Elsa closed her eyes. She took a deep breath.

"Very well, Hans." She opened her eyes to see him smirking.

She took another deep breath. "You—NOW!"

Her shout ended in a shriek that brought a gale of winter wind barreling toward Hans. It pushed Olaf's bag forward and Olaf collided with the space directly between Hans's legs.

Hans shrieked in a higher octave than Elsa had ever heard from him. He dropped the bag.

Elsa reached forward and shot ice spikes from her palm. They lifted Hans up and pinned him to the far wall. Only one hit Hans himself, and that one jabbed Hans's wrist to make him let go of the match.

Nick dove and grabbed the bag. Elsa could see him scrambling to find the opening.

Elsa made a slashing motion with her hands, causing the ice spikes to grow, pinning Hans more securely to the wall. More grew up to poke his chest, legs, and arms, just in case.

"Go on!" Hans shouted as the ice spikes grew. "Finish it! Show your people the monster you've become!"

Elsa stopped.

The ice spikes stopped.

The blizzard stopped.

Even Nick stopped, now that Olaf's head was more-or-less out of the bag.

"Monster?" Elsa repeated.

"_Don't be the monster they fear you are!"_

"_Don't be the monster!"_

"_The monster!"_

"… Elsa?"

She blinked herself back into the present, staring at the man in front of her, his face contorted with rage, every muscle straining against the icy bounds that held him.

She turned to look at where the voice had come from. It was Olaf, his little lips quivering.

She stared at Hans. And from somewhere, Elsa wasn't sure where, a laugh bubbled up.

"Oh, _Hans_," Elsa chuckled. Then the chuckles died. She flicked her wrist and a snowball appeared in her hand. She tossed it up, once, twice, and threw it.

It hit Hans right in the mouth, gagging him.

"I'm not a monster, Hans. You are." She waved her hand and an ice wall grew up around him.

Then she looked at Nick and Olaf. Olaf ran forward, and Elsa knelt down fast enough to catch him in a big, impossibly warm hug.

"Oh, little buddy," Elsa murmured where she thought his ear might be. "I was so scared … are you ok?"

"Are _you_ ok, Elsa?"

Elsa squeezed him tighter. "I'm ok if you're ok."

"Then I'm ok," Olaf replied.

Elsa let out a slow sigh of relief. She blinked and looked up.

Nick was still crouched where he had been before. He blinked a couple of times, squinting to focus. Then he smiled.

Elsa smiled back, planting a small kiss on Olaf's forehead.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"

Elsa gasped.

_The men!_

She shot up, somehow managing to shift Olaf to her hip and carrying him with her. She waved her free hand to dissolve some of the ice wall and looked down.

What she saw … wasn't what she had been expecting to see.

She only had five guards. But somehow between them, they had the rebels huddled in the center of the room, their hands on their heads and weapons to the side. Plenty of them had open, bleeding wounds. Still more had skin pink in the early stages of frostbite.

There were only two rebels separated from the pack. One was Roahl. He was flat on his back, crossbow bolts sticking out of him like the quills on a porcupine. He wasn't moving.

The other was Knut, still curled on his side. He was shivering, though whether from the cold, pain, or fear of Corporal Lauritsen's ice sword, which was currently resting against his neck, was anyone's guess.

"This one," Corporal Lauritsen nodded toward Knut, "has something to say to you." Corporal Lauritsen nudged him with his boot. "Out with it!"

"We surrender!" sobbed Knut. "We surrender!"

"What's that?" Corporal Lauritsen asked, putting one hand to his ear. "If I couldn't—"

"Corporal!" Elsa snapped. The Corporal straightened and stood at attention. "There's no need to torment the poor man. I heard him—"

_Boom! Boom!_

"Oh, gods, _now_ what?" Elsa sighed, staring at the warehouse door.

She hadn't long to wait. The door suddenly splintered open, bar and all, and in stumbled Captain Vilmarsen, followed by at least a dozen town guards, and—

"SERGEANT!" Elsa cried out, a sob leaping into her throat as she saw Sergeant Aagesen standing next to Captain Vilmarsen, on his feet even if a bandage was wrapped around his shoulder.

He was the first one to see her. He grinned and waved with his good arm.

_But … how …_

There would be questions, Elsa knew. Questions she would have to ask. Questions she would have to answer. Questions like the ones that were written all over Captain Vilmarsen's face. She hadn't seen him look so shocked since … well, earlier today, when she revealed her ice could stop crossbow bolts.

However, soon, the shock died away. The Captain slowly shook his head, took a cigar out, and lit it. A brisk winter breeze ensured that the smoke would stay downwind of Elsa, although Lieutenant Ingersen, standing next to him, wouldn't be so lucky.

"Well, Your Majesty," said Captain Vilmarsen after taking a few drags. "I have to say, this is impressive. Quite, quite impressive. However, I have a favor to ask."

"A—favor?" Elsa asked, stupidly, shifting Olaf a little bit. She felt Nick come up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You bet. The next time you and your friends come out to kick—"

Lieutenant Ingersen's elbow rammed into the Captain's side. The Captain coughed and sputtered.

"Er—right. As I was saying … the next time you and your friends come out to," he glanced at Lieutenant Ingersen and rolled his eyes, "_prod buttock_ …"

He grinned. "_Do_ invite me along for the ride."

* * *

**Whew! And that's a wrap! (The chapter, I mean. There are still a few more chapters to go in the story!)**

**First of all I want to thank all of my reviewers: Batman1809, Jacob Flores, magiclover13, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, bandgeek63, RJCA27, TheHumanCanvas, Penmaster1547, CrunchDeNumbers, and a special shout-out to new reviewer Julie Horwitz!**

**I also want to thank the fantabulous stillslightlynerdy. I would have never known that a "ship of the line" was a thing if I hadn't read **_**Once upon a time in Arendelle**_**. If you haven't read it yet, you should!**

**And one last note before I leave you. If anyone is disappointed and thinks that Hans got off easy, allow me to point out that he is still on trial for treason, and I've got four chapters plus an epilogue to go. There is still time for Hans to get what is coming to him.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed this one, and I'll see you all next time!**


	28. Queen's Orders

**So sorry about the wait on this one, guys! The last two scenes just … did not want to happen. But they needed to happen, and now they've happened, and now you can read them.**

**Also, Tumblr may have been part of the delay. *shifty eyes* Just maybe.**

* * *

Chapter 28: Queen's Orders

After all that had happened, there was a part of Elsa that couldn't believe that she was back on the couch in Kristoff's room, telling a story to a shocked-looking Anna and Kristoff.

At least she'd been given most of the day to sleep – and she had taken it, too, snuggling under the covers with her arms wrapped around Olaf. At least Olaf was with her now, cuddled on one side.

Nick was with her, too. She was cuddling against him just as Olaf was cuddling against her, knowing that Anna and Kristoff couldn't really say anything about it.

Anna and Kristoff both were on the bed, Anna with her feet up on the covers and Kristoff under them. Kristoff didn't look much better than he had the day before, and Nick looked worse. The cut above his eye had needed stitches, and she could tell that he was in pain based on the careful, slow way in which he moved and how he would sometimes gasp if he moved too quickly or in the wrong way.

However, he still had his arm wrapped around Elsa's shoulders, and by the way he tightened his hold whenever Elsa mentioned a part in her story where someone could have gotten hurt, she guessed he didn't want to let go for a long, long time. Elsa didn't mind that at all. She stroked his side with one hand, allowing her powers to cool the fabric and hopefully the skin beneath it.

"And then Captain Vilmarsen came in, and well …" Elsa pushed a few stray tendrils of hair out of her face. She was wearing her favorite loose French braid, and she hadn't even bothered to put any pins in it. "After that, it was just cleanup, I suppose. Hauling the rebels off to prison or the hospital, that kind of thing." Elsa yawned. Even after sleeping most of the day, she was still tired. Maybe it was the relief of knowing that she was finally safe.

She looked up at Nick. "Did I forget anything?"

Nick shook his head. "I don't believe so."

"Good." Elsa nodded and burrowed closer to Nick on one side while drawing Olaf closer on the other.

That was when Anna started to speak up. "_Ho_-ly sh—"

This time, it was Kristoff putting his hand over her mouth. "You're welcome, feistypants."

Anna kicked on the mattress and flailed and pushed Kristoff's hand away. "How—_how_ did you—Elsa! You went after that—that _bastard_ practically by yourself!"

"Should I resent that?" Nick asked Elsa.

"I think Sergeant Aagesen and the rest of the men should resent it more," she replied. "They knew what they were getting into."

"True," Nick nodded.

"Hey! I'm not done yet!" Anna pointed at Elsa. "_You_ are supposed to be the smart sister! I am the goofy, awkward, and utterly adorable sister, but _you_ are the smart one!"

"Anna, would you have done anything differently, if you could?" Elsa asked, catching her lip between her teeth.

"Of course not! But you're supposed to be the smart one!" Anna gulped. "You—you could have been …"

She choked back something that sounded like a sob and launched herself from the bed into Elsa's arms. The sofa rocked under the impact, and when Anna's knee hit Olaf's hindquarters, it went ricocheting to the other end of the sofa.

"Whoa!"

Anna didn't seem to hear. She clung to Elsa, leaving just enough room for Olaf to not get completely squished. "_Gods_, Elsa! I'm supposed to be the one running headlong into danger without thinking it through! Not you!"

"You know, feistypants, you don't have to do that," Kristoff said. "I mean, if you and Elsa decide that neither of you wants to be the sister that goes running right into trouble, I don't think anybody would be complaining."

"Anna," Elsa murmured, laying her hand on Anna's cheek. Anna looked up, her eyes swimming with tears. Elsa had to blink back a few tears of her own. "I couldn't let Hans hurt Olaf."

"I _know_ that, but … it shouldn't have been you rushing after him. Not all by yourself. You could have woken me up!"

"No. No, Anna, absolutely not." Elsa hugged Anna closer. "I wasn't dragging you into this any more than you were already in it. He … he was standing outside your room, you know." Elsa brushed her sister's face. "I couldn't—I couldn't put you in danger. Again."

Anna pouted and leaned back on her heels. "Well, sh—"

This time it was Olaf putting his hand over Anna's mouth. Anna pulled away. "How did _you_ know what I was going to say?"

"I didn't!" Olaf replied cheerfully. "But whenever you say sh and Kristoff's eyes go wide, he puts his hand on your mouth! So I figured I should, since he can't reach." Olaf narrowed his eyes. "Hey, what were you going to say?"

"Sugar snaps!" replied Elsa, glaring at Anna. "Sugar snaps. That's what Anna was going to say."

"What's wrong with saying sugar snaps?" wondered Olaf.

Anna looked at Elsa. Elsa looked at Anna.

Anna patted Olaf's head. "It's less about the words than the tone, little buddy."

"Oh, ok!" replied Olaf, somehow accepting that. "Say, could somebody grab my butt?"

It took a few moments to find Olaf's posterior, since it had rolled off the couch and gone wandering around the room. But when Anna found it, she put it on Elsa's lap; then she grabbed the rest of Olaf and reattached him. Once that was done, she climbed up on the couch and cuddled next to Elsa.

Poor Kristoff looked very lonely on the bed. But for Elsa, so obviously surrounded by her favorite people, each of them vying to be closer to her, _touching _her …

Elsa leaned her head back, eyes closed to keep tears from escaping. A year ago, she would have never imagined this was possible. Even when the Great Thaw happened, just having Anna back in her life was a fate that surpassed her wildest dreams. And now … _this_ …

"I love you," she said. "All of you. I'm sorry for scaring you, and I'm sorry for putting you in danger, and I wish—I don't know what I wish. I wish you didn't keep getting dragged into my—"

_Wait, what?_

Her mind went back to the first thing she had said. And she remembered who she was leaning against, who was pressed against her right side.

_NICK! Oh—sugar snaps!_

Elsa's eyes popped open. She stared into Nick's just as shocked ones.

"N-Nick," she stammered. She'd not even known him for three months; surely it was far too soon to be saying something like that. "I—"

Nick didn't answer. He cupped Elsa's face with both of his hands, staring into her eyes. Before Elsa could say anything else, he was kissing her.

With something that could have been a moan and could have been a choked back sob, Elsa kissed him back.

When they finally had to breathe, Nick still had his hands on her face, gently stroking her cheek. "Elsa," he said, his voice choked and his eyes dark with—something. "Elsa—I—I saw you heading straight into gods-know-what danger, and I ran after you. Do you think I _don't_ love you?"

Elsa's breath hitched on a sob. She stared at Nick, trying to keep everything in.

… _Why?_

She let it go, leaning against his chest and sobbing for what felt like hours.

With Nick holding her, and Anna leaning against her and rubbing her back, and even Olaf burrowed in the middle, Elsa couldn't remember the last time she had felt so surrounded and held and cherished.

Loved.

She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so loved.

* * *

When Elsa left Kristoff's room roughly half an hour later, Anna's arm hooked into hers, all she meant to do was wash her face and see about getting them some supper. Unfortunately, the gods had other plans.

Kai was at the other end of the hallway, hurrying toward them with a note in one hand. "Your Majesty!" he called. Then, abruptly, he stopped. "Is … is everything all right?"

Anna seemed to understand what Kai was asking before Elsa did. "They were happy tears, Kai."

_Is it that obvious?_ Elsa wondered. She made her free hand cooler and brought it up to her cheeks and eyes to try to bring the redness and the puffiness down.

"Are you sure?" asked Kai, looking at Elsa with more than a little nervousness.

"Even if they weren't, Kai, don't you think that a good cry might have been just what Elsa needed?" Anna replied.

Kai blinked; then, slowly, he smiled. "Yes, of course. You're quite right, Your Highness. However …" He coughed. "An urgent message for you, Your Majesty, from Captain Vilmarsen. One of his constables is waiting at the gate for your answer."

Her heart starting to pound, Elsa took the message. Anna tried to read it over her shoulder.

_Your Majesty,_

_Just heard from the dr.s at Lady S. Strand has a fever. If we're going to get anything out of him, we need to be quick about it._

_Let me know if you want to be present when we interview him._

_Capt. S. Vilmarsen_

"Huh _what_?" asked Anna, while Elsa gasped.

"Oh gods," Elsa murmured, running a hand through her hair. She tried to swallow and didn't have much success.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down, sis. It's going to be ok." Anna let go of Elsa's arm only to hug her around the shoulders. "Whatever it is, it can't possibly be that bad."

"I—I'm sorry," Elsa tried to swallow again. "I'm sorry. Is it getting colder?"

"No," said Anna. When Elsa looked at her in shock, she rolled her eyes. "Elsa. You have a _face_. It has _expressions_. You're looking a little frazzled now, that's all."

Elsa glanced sidelong at Kai. Ruefully, he nodded.

_All right, Elsa, breathe. Calm down._ She handed the note back to Kai and took a deep breath. _Calm down. Anna's right, this … compared to what the last few days have been, this isn't that bad._

"What—what Captain Vilmarsen is saying is that Knut Strand – the leader who stopped Roahl Ramussen from shooting at me, and got shot for his troubles – he has a fever," Elsa explained. "Which means …"

Anna's eyes went wide. She knew what that meant. After hearing so many half-hopeful prognoses from Doctor Spillum over the past few weeks, Elsa doubted if anyone knew better what a fever meant for a man who had been wounded like Knut had.

"So," Elsa stumbled on, "so I have to get to the hospital. I want to be there when they interview him. I want—I _need_ to know why he did what he did. Why they all did it."

"All right," Anna replied. Elsa almost sighed in relief.

Anna kept talking.

"So we'll get you cleaned up a bit," Anna said, "and then we'll get our cloaks, and we'll go. Kai, can you get a sled ready for us?"

"Right away, Your Highness," Kai said, bowing. "Your Majesty, what shall I tell Captain Vilmarsen's constable?"

"Tell him—tell him I'll be at the hospital as quickly as I can," Elsa said. Kai bowed. As he retreated, Elsa turned to Anna. "You don't have to come."

"I want to come," replied Anna. "I don't think you should be alone. Besides," Anna's voice took on a bit of a growl, "that guy tried to make me _Queen_. You know how I feel about men who try to make me Queen."

Elsa laughed. It was more a weak chuckle than a full laugh, but it would have to do. "And—and Kristoff, Nick, and Olaf?"

"I'll tell Gerda to let them know where we are. And to get food for them," Anna replied. "After all, any guy who wants to be part of our lives needs to know where he stands in the scheme of things, don't you think?"

Elsa shook her head, but she smiled. "Fine, Anna. You win."

* * *

They weren't smiling when they arrived at the hospital. Of one mind, the sisters had pressed close to each other when they arrived, and they walked arm-in-arm through the crowded corridors.

There were smells of blood, waste, vomit. There were other smells Elsa didn't care to name. There were, too, scents of attempts at cleaning up: water, soap, a hint of lavender. But to judge by the nose alone, the dirt was winning.

They finally came to one ward that was tucked in the back and only half-full. That was where they had put all the rebels from the warehouse that had needed medical treatment. Most of them lay listless on their beds, their hands manacled to the bedrails. To Elsa's eyes, there were fewer of them here than there had been injured men last night. She forced herself to hope that some of them had only needed quick, easy treatment before being sent to the jail.

The room was crawling with town guards. More than a few of them perked up the moment Elsa and Anna walked into the room. The smarter ones saluted, and the slower ones followed.

As for the rebels, those who weren't asleep visibly quailed when they took one look at Elsa.

Elsa took a deep breath and held it. But Anna, who had originally been beaming at the guards, scowled. "Yeah, you'd _better_ be afraid," she said. "You think Elsa's scary when she gets mad? You haven't seen me!"

Elsa's breath came out in something that could have been a shout or could have been a laugh. She was never quite sure which. "_Anna_!"

"What?"

Elsa was spared having to come up with an answer by a stir at the back of the room. One corner had been curtained off, and Captain Vilmarsen was coming out. "Your Majes—" he began.

He stopped, seeing Anna. "Oh, gods."

"Hi, Captain!" said Anna.

"Your Highness." Captain Vilmarsen sighed. "We're going to need another stool, aren't we?"

"Looks like it!" Anna said with a cheerfulness that would have been annoying if Elsa hadn't suspected it was being done for her benefit. She gently squeezed Anna's arm, and Anna turned to her with a smile.

"All right." Captain Vilmarsen nodded to one of the guards, who saluted, ran off, and quickly came back with a stool. He handed it to the Captain, who shoved it into the room and held open the curtain with one hand. "After you, ladies."

Elsa's reply was a wan smile, Anna's a cheery, "Thanks!"

The smiles didn't last after they came into the curtained corner.

There were four stools. One was occupied by a very short young woman with a large notebook in hand. Her eyes widened when Anna and Elsa entered. However, despite the crammed-in stools, most of the space was taken up by a hospital cot.

The man on the cot didn't look, to Elsa's eyes, too bad. He was awake. His eyes were open and his cheeks were rosy. Perhaps a little too rosy. And his eyes were shadowed with pain.

It didn't seem necessary to Elsa, but his arm, too, was manacled to the bedrail. And the closer Elsa looked … she could see that his hair, blond shot through with white strands like yellowed ivory, was lank and almost damp. _Sweat_, Elsa realized. _He's sweating._

She took a deep breath as she took her seat on the stool. Captain Vilmarsen followed, taking the stool closest to the curtain's opening. He let the curtain fall closed as soon as he sat.

The minute that the curtain closed, the air grew stuffy and close. Elsa closed her eyes and lowered the temperature just a touch – just enough to make it more comfortable. Barely enough to notice.

Or so she thought until she opened her eyes and saw Anna's raised eyebrow.

"All right, Strand," said Captain Vilmarsen, drawing Elsa's attention. "Are you willing to talk?"

Strand – Knut – looked around the four of them. "What do I have to gain?" he asked. One nail picked absently at the bedclothes. "Or lose?"

"Men don't always die from these kinds of fevers. Often, but not always," replied Captain Vilmarsen. "Come clean with us now, and if you pull through this, we might be able to talk … reduced punishments."

"And," Elsa said, steeling herself, "there were between twenty and thirty men in that warehouse with you. Master Westergaard's fate is out of your hands, and so is Master Ramussen's, but if you come clean with us now, we might be able to … see our way to showing some mercy on the other men."

Knut sighed. He continued to pick at the bedclothes. "They were mostly Roahl's men. Sailors. Dockworkers. Men who …"

He looked up. Elsa noticed that his eyes weren't far off from Hans's, at least as far the color was concerned. "They didn't have much, Your Majesty. And then you took it away."

"Hey," Anna snapped, "watch it."

"No—no, Anna, it's all right." Elsa reached across and squeezed her sister's hand. Then she turned back to Knut. "I'm sorry about any hardship they suffered. I truly am. But whatever decisions I made as a ruler, that gave you no right – no right – to set fire to my stables, injuring a perfectly innocent man; to break an extremely dangerous man out of prison; and to kidnap a member of the royal family. And don't even," Elsa swallowed, "don't even _think_ of saying that Olaf isn't a member of the royal family. I _know_ who you were trying to kidnap that night."

Knut's eyes went wide, then they slid to Anna. Elsa shifted her stool closer to her sister.

"Oh gods," he whispered. He closed his eyes, falling back against the pillows. Not opening them, he sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Begin at the beginning," said Captain Vilmarsen. "Tell us how all of this started."

Knut chewed his lower lip. "I—I suppose things must start with Cicero then …"

And so they started with Cicero – the anonymous letters written to the paper, criticizing Elsa's policy and all but calling for her impeachment. He talked of nights spent at the Priest and Fish, commiserating with Roahl. He talked of attempting to go through official channels to reach the Queen and how he had been utterly rebuffed.

Elsa tried not to wince when he described Petition Day. She didn't succeed.

"But I suppose – I suppose the parts you are interested in started after the Winter Festival." Knut sighed. "When we destroyed the ice sculptures. I thought—part of me thought it was a shame to do it. The festival was just innocent fun. But … tea is an innocent drink."

Elsa and Anna exchanged glances. They looked at Captain Vilmarsen, who looked just as confused as they felt.

Knut sighed again. "The destruction of the tea in Boston Harbor," he said.

It was Anna's eyes that went wide. "The _Boston Tea Party_? You destroyed all of those ice sculptures because you wanted to imitate the _Boston Tea Party_?"

"It was fitting, wasn't it?" asked Knut, a little plaintively. "It was to be our—opening salvo in our attempt to rid Arendelle from tyranny—"

"Tyranny? Are you _nuts_? You're calling Elsa a tyrant? _Elsa_?" Anna squealed.

"Anna, don't worry about it," Elsa replied, squeezing her sister's hand.

Anna looked at Elsa, jaw fallen, then back at Knut. "This. This is the woman you're calling a tyrant. _Elsa_," she repeated, somewhat unnecessarily.

Knut opened his eyes. For the first time since she had come in, Knut's eyes met – truly met – Elsa's.

Elsa folded her hands in her lap, sat up straight, and composed her features into a regal, indifferent mask.

Knut looked away first.

"So," Captain Vilmarsen interjected, "you said 'we' destroyed the ice sculptures. Who is this 'we'?"

"Roahl … he had to lay off many of his men. They hadn't gotten jobs yet. He knew where they liked to drink." Knut shrugged. "It wasn't hard to find quite a few men who were drunk enough and angry enough to want to …" He glanced again at Elsa. "To strike at the Ice Queen."

_Ice Queen. Huh. That's better than what Roahl was calling me._

"But after we did that – I tried to take more control. We had gotten people's attention. But we needed to let them know what we were trying to do. So I … started writing the pamphlets."

"Pamphlets?" Anna asked.

_I'll tell you later,_ Elsa mouthed.

Knut didn't seem to notice this exchange. "Your—Your Majesty, the illustrations weren't my idea. I thought—well, I thought they would be a distraction. And I thought … there was no need to get so … _personal_. But—but, well, the man we found to print them, he prints a great deal of other … impolite material. Roahl found some of the sketches while I was trying to strike a deal. He ended up finding the illustrator and bought several of his drawings right off him." Knut sighed. "He said it would gain us a wider audience. And he was right. The printer sold out of each pamphlet faster than I would have dared to hope."

"Elsa … these _illustrations_ …" Anna murmured.

Elsa just shook her head. She couldn't help her shiver, or her shudder, or the way she hugged her arms to herself as if she was cold.

"So we published the pamphlets," Knut went on. His voice was taking on a peculiar, almost dead quality, as if the story he was telling had happened to someone other than him. "But Roahl insisted we had to keep getting people's attention. He told his sailors to – make a fuss. Start writing slogans on walls, knock down a few statues, that kind of thing. He told them, too, to try to get more men at other taverns. But that—that hardly ever worked. They'd start talking, and it would only be a few moments before someone else at the tavern took offense, and … well," Knut shrugged. "It didn't work well.

"I … I don't know how long things might have gone on like that, Your Majesty. But then you created that … ice beast."

"Coco," Anna said. "Her horse. The horse had a name. Coco."

_Coco,_ Elsa thought, allowing a sunlight ride, a laughing joy, and the feeling of the wind in her hair to briefly fill her memory.

"… The horse," Knut replied. "Your Majesty, you had created – you had created something _alive_. Something like those snowmen! Roahl—he panicked. And so did most of the sailors. If you—gods, you could create an army of snow beasts! You could be unstoppable! You could crush us all beneath your boot!"

Elsa looked up. She had made a horse – a pure, free, wild horse – and _that's_ what these men saw?

"I thought—I thought Roahl was overreacting. But he wouldn't be overruled. He—we all decided that we needed to destroy that horse."

Knut leaned back against the pillows again. "No one was supposed to be in the stables. We … because you had the gates open, Your Majesty, we'd had men coming in and watching the palace. We noticed that the stable hands were generally gone by eight o'clock. So Roahl decided—he and some of the other men rowed out in a little boat, and he—he took his father's old firebolt crossbow with him," Knut went on. He looked at Captain Vilmarsen. "Roahl's father invented the firebolt. That was where Roahl's seed money came from—and his ties with Weselton. Roahl thought it would be … fitting."

"So Roahl fired the crossbow from the water and set the stables on fire that way?" asked Captain Vilmarsen.

"I don't know who fired the crossbow. I didn't go. I—that wasn't part of the plan, for me to go." Knut shuddered. "But no one was supposed to be in there! _That_ was part of the plan! No one was supposed to get hurt!

"And when we found out that someone _had_ …" Knut whimpered. "That's … that's attempted murder … we hadn't signed on for that … that was when we realized we were in over our heads. Then when your men started sniffing around the Priest and Fish – it just got worse," Knut moaned.

Now Elsa could see the man she had first met in the warehouse, that confused, worried, and very frightened man.

"That was when Roahl decided—we needed help. And—and Matsen, who worked at the prison, said he could get Prince Hans out."

The temperature in the room took a decided dip, and Elsa wasn't sure she was entirely to blame. Not with the way Anna growled. "Prince Hans."

Knut nodded. "He got us through the winter. He was—he was another royal, more of the same, I thought. But Roahl … Roahl _believed_ in him. Believed that he was innocent and only shipped back to the Southern Isles as some kind of—massive cover-up. Covering up _what_, I still don't know, but covering up something. And—and we knew he was a leader. We knew he was resourceful.

"We agreed to go along with Matsen's plan."

Knut fell silent. It was up to Captain Vilmarsen to clear his throat, then ask, "And then what happened?"

A slow, mirthless chuckle. "Gods, if things were out of control before, they were even more so! Prince Hans demanded we get weapons. He demanded we fortify Roahl's warehouse. He acted—I don't know what he acted like! Like he was a general, and we were his stupid, hapless men. But—but Roahl followed him. The _men_ followed him. I didn't know why."

Knut had pulled his knees nearly to his chest. He still stared at the bedclothes. "I still don't know why."

"What happened the day he attacked the Queen?" asked Captain Vilmarsen.

"I don't know," Knut said, looking up. "I wasn't there. You see, I—I had to continue to report to the bank, to do business, to make it look—to make it look as if everything was normal. I could only come to the warehouse for a few hours every day."

"I'm guessing you conveniently 'don't know' what happened when Hans decided he was going to try to kill Kristoff, then, huh?" snapped Anna.

Knut paled. "I … I was present when that plan was … discussed. Prince Hans—Prince Hans said …" He wiped his hand over his face. "He said that—that the only way to get you, Your Majesty, to capitulate would be to threaten people who are close to you. We had tried to reach out to you in a – political fashion. We needed to make it personal."

_Yes,_ thought Elsa, _that's what Hans would say, isn't it? Because he never cared about you and what you wanted. He just wanted _me_ to give him what _he_ wanted._

"I didn't like the idea," Knut sighed, "but I was overruled. As always. It wasn't hard, from what I understand, to get to the Ice Master's sled. It was kept in a corner of the livery stables that was barely watched. We were able to get a man in there to saw partway through the supports with no problem.

"And then … we waited …"

Knut swallowed. "When—when it happened—we never expected you to do what you did, Your Majesty. To—to publish that story." He stopped, looking up. "Was it … true …?"

Captain Vilmarsen opened his mouth, but Elsa raised her hand for silence. "I have never lied to my people, Master Strand. I might keep secrets, but I don't lie."

He moaned. "I was afraid of that … even when it was published, I was afraid …" He shuddered, then gasped in pain, both hands clutching his side.

Elsa, Captain Vilmarsen, and Anna waited.

Finally the spasms stopped. Captain Vilmarsen coughed once. "So. That bit in the paper got published. How did you get into the palace?"

Interesting, Elsa thought, how he skipped right to that part. Apparently he didn't care how Hans had convinced the rest of the rebels that kidnapping Anna would be a good idea.

"Prince Hans … knew of some secret passages. He must have found them while he was acting as Regent. He …" Knut shook his head. "He must have an amazing memory. We were able to take a small rowboat and come around the back of the castle. I still don't know how we were able to land without being seen. But Hans was able to find a small – it looked like a sewer grate – whatever it was, it got us into the castle. We followed the passage to where it let out, and from there …"

Knut swallowed. "Prince Hans knew just where to go, to get to Princess Anna's room. I don't … I don't want to know how he knew. I don't."

Anna shuddered, and Elsa brought her arm around her sister's shoulder.

"But she wasn't there," Knut whispered. "I—I don't think I've ever been more grateful for anything in my life. She wasn't there." He sighed. "But then the guard came around the corner … and the _snowman _..."

Elsa glanced at Captain Vilmarsen and shook her head. He nodded. She had already told him what she had dreamed, and Sergeant Aagesen and Olaf had backed up what she said. Bless Olaf's snowy little heart, he hadn't thought it at all strange that Elsa might be able to dream seeing through his eyes and have it all be true. As for Sergeant Aagesen, if he thought anything about this was strange, he hadn't mentioned it.

"That's enough," said Captain Vilmarsen, nodding to the scribbling guard. "We know what happened from there." He sighed. "Anything you want to add, now that you have the Queen's ear? Don't count on getting it again."

Knut looked up. He looked at Elsa.

Elsa took a deep breath and sat up as straight as she knew how.

"… Why couldn't you have just listened to us?" Knut asked, plaintively.

"Hey—" Anna started.

Elsa put a hand on her sister's shoulder. "I did listen to you, Master Strand. It was—it was trade with Weselton that you and your friends wanted, wasn't it? Mainly?"

Slowly, he nodded.

"All this time," Elsa replied, "we have been working on a treaty. All this time. I admit, my _personal_ attention hasn't always been on it, but my government has been working on it. Minister Falk anticipates that we should have a final agreement ready to sign within a week or two at the most."

Knut stared at her. "But … the papers …"

"We were not a point where we could announce it in the papers," Elsa shrugged. "These were delicate negotiations. We couldn't risk something going wrong."

"So … so you … this whole time …"

Knut stared at the bed. He stared at the curtains. He stared at the manacle around his wrist.

He keened and fell back against the pillows with a sob, both of his hands covering his face.

"Come on," Anna murmured, hooking her arm through Elsa's, "let's go."

Elsa stared at the man on the bed, small and almost swallowed by the bedclothes. She couldn't help the small stir of pity that arose. Even with all he had done …

She thought of all the other men out there in the ward – in the cells – and sighed.

"Yes. Let's go," she agreed.

Arm and arm, she and Anna left the hospital and went back home.

* * *

"… and I believe that should be everything." Elsa shuffled the papers in front of her, giving her notes one last glance to prove to herself, at least, that she had in fact covered everything. She swallowed and looked up. "Any questions?"

Eleven very shocked faces stared back at her.

Elsa sighed. She had expected this, she really had. But expecting it and being faced with it were two different things.

Time to move on, then, before any of her Councilors verbally demanded she explain herself – or, more likely, questioned her sanity. "However, with all of that being said, we have some decisions to make, ladies and gentlemen. Namely, what to do with the …" She sighed again. "Depressingly large number of rebels and traitors now taking up space in the hospital and at the city jail." Elsa folded her hands over her notes and sat up straight. "Are there any suggestions?"

Silence, at least until Jarl Casper awkwardly coughed and cleared his throat. "Er—Your Majesty—surely a trial, followed by punishment …?"

Elsa took a deep breath. "I would like to avoid a trial, if at all possible. I have no intention of passing summary judgment," Elsa raised a hand to forestall any protests about that, "but all the same, I don't think this city could handle two trials of the century in the space of a few months."

"You mean," that was Madam Voll, looking rather pale and licking her lips nervously. Elsa found herself wondering how she could convince the older woman to take a sip of her water. "You mean … you wish for them to plead guilty?"

"If possible," Elsa agreed.

"Well … usually people agree to do that in exchange for lesser punishments … I suppose a quick execution could count …" Madam Voll.

Elsa wrinkled her nose. "Madam Voll, when was the last time the … full punishment for treason was carried out?"

"The full punishment" was a brutal one that had been imported from Andalasia: hanging, drawing, and quartering. Elsa had read a description of it just once, and that was more than enough.

"Er, the last time would be … goodness, certainly before your father's time," replied Madam Voll.

"Precisely," replied Elsa. "I am in no hurry to bring that back. I am not even going to threaten it. A quick death is a severe enough penalty, even for treason."

For a moment there was silence. Then Chancellor Tennfjord dropped her pen.

"Your Majesty … are you suggesting … you would let them _live_?"

Elsa swallowed. "If—if they are willing to plead guilty and admit their crimes, yes. At least, that would be my preference."

"But—Your Majesty—" Chancellor Tennfjord put one hand to her head and looked bewildered. "They _shot_ at you!"

Unfortunately Elsa had to admit that. As much as like would have wanted to think that Hans and Roahl did all of the shooting that night, Roahl's body – and Hans's practicality – was strong evidence to the contrary.

But she did have another card to play. "We don't know that they were shooting to kill."

Another bout of silence. Chancellor Tennfjord was the first to break it. "Your Majesty …"

"There was a blizzard," Elsa swallowed. "It was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of oneself. I should know. _I made it that way_. And with the wind, and – everything else, it's entirely possible that a blow that was aimed as a glancing blow ended up being … lethal."

"They were still shooting at you," Chancellor Tennfjord answered. "That's more than enough for treason. It doesn't matter where _at you_ they were aiming. They were shooting, or they thought they were shooting, _at you_!"

"Chancellor—"

"Your Majesty," she interrupted, "just—just give me _one reason_ to show mercy on these men. To let them live, that is, not to give them a quick death. One reason. That's all I'm asking for."

Elsa took a deep breath. "I don't want to baptize my reign with blood, Chancellor."

"It's been almost nine months since your coronation, Your Majesty! And technically it's three years into your reign!"

"Technically," Elsa repeated. "It's been less than a year since I began to rule in my own right. And these men … based on the way they acted, based on how they only became violent after I demonstrated my powers in public, they did what they did because they were afraid of me. Because they were afraid that my power was such that I would …" Elsa closed her eyes. "I believe the way Master Strand put it was 'crush them all under my boot.'"

She had to swallow again before she could finish. "Chancellor, I do not want this rebellion to end with me proving these men right."

"It's not the same," replied Chancellor Tennfjord. "No. Your Majesty, even if you hung them all tomorrow, without trial, you would not be proving them right. Nobody in this room believes that you would be proving them right!"

"You're wrong," Elsa replied.

"No, Your Majesty! _Look_! Look around this table and see if you see anyone who holds any truck with the notion that by doing justice, you would somehow be proving that these lunatics were in the right!"

"I don't have to look to know that you're wrong."

"Your Majesty—"

"_I would_."

Silence. One could have heard a snowflake fall.

Elsa didn't dare to take her eyes off Chancellor Tennfjord. "I would, Chancellor Tennfjord. _I_ would think that they were right." She rubbed her hands and took a deep breath. "And I have spent too long thinking that my people are afraid of me, that they are _right_ to be afraid of me. I want to move past that. I can't move past that if I have proven their point."

"Your Majesty—"

"Gudrun."

Every eye in the room swiveled to Bishop Elias.

He was shaking his head at the Chancellor. "You can't ask her to go against her conscience."

"Bishop, I think I can. I must! This is—this is _politics_!"

"If the Queen were a – forgive me for this phrasing, my dear – if she were an ordinary Queen, with no special powers, I might agree with you. But Queen Elsa," and somewhat to Elsa's surprise, she saw the slender man puff himself up with something that looked like pride, "is no ordinary Queen. She doesn't need to make an example of these men. She's already done it."

Jarl Casper coughed. "He has a point, Gudrun," he said. "Everyone in the city knows what the Queen did. How she defeated thirty men practically single-handedly. Killing them now …" Jarl Casper stroked his chin. "Well, pardon the pun, but it might well be overkill."

Chancellor Tennfjord looked around and sighed. "Must the two of you actually _agree_ on this?"

The Bishop and Jarl Casper exchanged glances. They shrugged.

"Fine. Fine! If the Queen insists …" Chancellor Tennfjord shook her head. "The men might be allowed to live. But the ringleaders, Your Majesty?"

"Master Ramussen is, obviously, beyond my judgment," replied Elsa. "Master Strand …" She sighed, remembering the note she had received from Captain Vilmarsen earlier. "The doctors at the hospital believe it won't be long before he is beyond my judgment, either."

"What about attainder?" asked Madam Voll.

Elsa looked up in surprise. "Attainder?"

"Yes—I mean, they are guilty of treason. If that doesn't carry a corruption of blood, what does?" Madam Voll shrugged. "And it would entitle you to take their property. It would show," and she looked rather pointedly at Chancellor Tennfjord, "that you take their treason seriously."

Elsa leaned back, thinking.

"You'd only need the Council to approve it," Madam Voll went on. "And from what I understand, Master Ramussen and Master Strand are—were—there's money there, is what I'm saying."

_But I wouldn't be punishing them,_ Elsa thought, _I would be punishing the people who would have inherited that property. _"I'm … not sure …"

"Your Majesty." That was Treasurer Akselsen, coughing a little nervously and adjusting his cravat. "If—if I may—there have been _expenses_ from these men's activity, and, well …"

Elsa looked up, brows furrowed.

"The—the stables, for one," Treasurer Akselsen. "The fire insurance will cover most of it, but—well, the rest will have to come from the castle budget, which ultimately comes from the taxpayers. And there's the matter of medical care for Master Njalsen, and medical care for Sergeant Aagesen … and for that matter, the medical care that the other rebels have received. And there's the vandalism, and … well …"

Elsa leaned back, tapping her fingers together, frowning in thought. No one spoke. She could feel them watching her … but she was thinking.

"I think," and she bit her lip, "I think … well, it's only fair that they should pay for their crimes, I suppose. Certainly less _unfair_ than expecting the taxpayers or even the insurance firm to pay for it. But," she said, holding up her hand, "I don't want to throw innocent people into poverty. Captain Vilmarsen hasn't yet uncovered any evidence that these men's families had the least idea what they were doing."

_Such as they are,_ Elsa thought. Roahl Ramussen had three daughters, but all of them were married, and since Roahl's wife had died some years ago their relations with their father had been strained. As for Knut Strand, he had lived alone, and while he had many friends and acquaintances, he had few close relatives.

"Attainder is usually an all-or-nothing proposition," Madam Voll answered, "but that being said, once the bill is passed, it's up to you what you wish to do with their property. If you want to give some back to their families, that would be your prerogative."

Elsa nodded. "And the fact that Master Ramussen is deceased is not an impediment?"

Madam Voll snorted. "I believe the technical rule is that no right-thinking man could pronounce him anything other than guilty, and believe me, Your Majesty, your ancestors have had fun with _that_ one."

"Very well." Elsa permitted herself a small smile. "Shall we vote?"

"We'll need a motion," muttered Chancellor Tennfjord.

"I move we put the matter of passing bills of attainder against Master Ramussen and Master Strand to a vote," said the Bishop.

"Seconded," murmured Jarl Casper before Chancellor Tennfjord could even ask for one.

"Does the Queen approve?" Chancellor Tennfjord asked.

"Yes."

They voted. There were eleven ayes, twelve if one counted Elsa's approval of the vote. There were no nays.

"Very well," said Chancellor Tennfjord, after she had recorded the vote and the task of going through the men's financial records and estate plans had been given to Treasurer Akselsen, "and the third ringleader?" She pulled her spectacles halfway down her nose and glanced at Elsa over them. "Master Westergaard?"

The room became a touch – just a touch – colder at the mention of his name. No one said anything, but by the looks on their faces, Elsa knew that everyone felt it.

Elsa gulped. "I …" _Calm down, calm down. He can't hurt you now. He can't hurt Olaf now. He can't hurt Anna now._ She shook her head. "He's still on trial. We can't determine a punishment for him when he's still being tried. The other men," Elsa felt the need to reiterate, "will only be shown mercy if they spare me from having to testify in _yet another_ trial – and Masters Ramussen and Strand are not able to be tried."

"He's not being tried for his most recent crimes," Chancellor Tennfjord pointed out.

"Yes, but Gudrun, what does it matter?" asked Bishop Elias. "If he's found guilty, the crimes he's being tried for carry a death penalty. If he's not found guilty, we can put him on trial again for _these_ crimes!"

Elsa winced, and Bishop Elias patted her hand. "Not that I think that's likely. Not in the least. If there is anyone in the city who thought Master Westergaard was innocent, they certainly don't think so now."

_I hope so,_ thought Elsa. She didn't think she could take having to face down Hans in the dock a second time.

"Very well," Chancellor Tennfjord nodded. "However, Your Majesty …"

Elsa turned to her and found the older woman's steely eyes piercing into her. "He's committed treason twice," she said. She raised her hand to silence Madam Voll before she could speak. "Everyone in this room knows that! Your Majesty, when—_when_—he is found guilty, promise me and everyone at this table that you will remember that."

Elsa nodded. "I shall."

Chancellor Tennfjord watched Elsa without blinking for a few slow seconds. Then, she nodded. "Good."

The meeting went on.

* * *

All told, the meeting lasted another hour. They had to discuss the punishment for the other rebels, should they plead guilty; they had to hear a report from Minister Falk on the state of the negotiations with Weselton; they had numerous and sundry other matters of business to discuss. When Chancellor Tennfjord finally brought the meeting to an official close, Elsa wanted to sigh with relief.

But the meeting wasn't over, not yet, not for her. As the Councilors started to shuffle out, Elsa asked, "Jarl Casper? Could I trouble you to remain behind a moment?"

The older man's eyebrows rose, but he nodded and bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty." He walked over to Chancellor Tennfjord's former seat, and after a quick glance for permission, sat.

Elsa waited for the last of the Councilors (Kare Steensen, representative of the province of Buskefold) to leave and close the door firmly behind him before she spoke. "Sir, I am afraid I must ask your advice regarding a … personnel matter."

"_My_ advice?" asked Jarl Casper, jaw falling.

"Yes. You—you see," Elsa said, "it concerns Captain Olhouser."

Jarl Casper slowly nodded, smiling slightly. "Ah."

"Yes. You see …" Elsa took a deep breath and tried to arrange the words in a tactful way.

Jarl Casper spared her that. "You've lost confidence in him."

Elsa's breath came out in a _whoosh_. "Yes," she admitted. Then, "How did you know?"

"Your Majesty, if the monarch is determined to go on a dangerous mission, the first person she should speaking to is the captain of her guard. The fact that you went out of your way not to include Captain Olhouser speaks volumes," Jarl Casper nodded. "Not to mention, somehow the man's security let Hans Westergaard through _twice_. I'd give him a pass on the stable fire, seeing as I can't imagine how anyone would have seen that coming, but when a dangerous fugitive is on the loose, this place shouldn't let a mouse in, let alone said fugitive."

Elsa nodded. "Yes. I think I need a new captain. And … well, I have two problems. The first is finding that new captain."

"Naturally. You have my full assistance in the search."

Elsa smiled. "Thank you. But the second—the second is where I think I shall need your assistance more. You see … I don't want to humiliate Captain Olhouser. While his—negligence regarding Master Westergaard is inexcusable, the reason I did not wish to enlist his aid when I decided to—to go after Olaf is because I feared he would not let me go. In that, he would only be doing his duty. I don't think—frankly, Jarl Casper, if I were to fire him, I would be inviting a great deal of negative publicity for both of us."

"Ah. So you need help kicking him upstairs, then?" asked Jarl Casper, nodding knowingly.

"I—wait, _what_?"

"Kicking him upstairs," Jarl Casper replied. "It's what we call it, in the service, when a man has proven himself totally unfit for command, but at the same time, hasn't done anything bad enough to merit a demotion or being mustered out. So he's promoted somewhere he can't do any damage – in other words, kicked upstairs."

Elsa felt herself begin to blink, very slowly. "Should I be worried that this happens often enough to have a name?"

"I wouldn't," Jarl Casper shrugged. "Trust me, there are plenty of posts for men of Captain Olhouser's ilk. I'll find something for him, don't worry." He smiled. "Is that all, Your Majesty?"

Elsa nodded, still wondering if she should be worried.

"Excellent. I'll have a look. Now, Your Majesty, you should get some rest," Jarl Casper said, smiling fondly at her. "You've had a rough few days."

For once, Elsa decided, for just this once, she wasn't going to argue.

* * *

**And Chapter 28 is a wrap!**

**Thank you to all of my excellent reviewers: Batman1809, bandgeek63, Jacob Flores, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, CrunchDeNumbers, TheHumanCanvas, Penmaster1547, RJCA27, Darthtraytus, GLB, and Guests 1, 2, and 3! Your reviews are part of what spurs me to keep going when the Muse just does not want to cooperate.**

**And now a couple of notes:**

**Ship of the line: ... I should have remembered that tidbit about the ship of the line needing a huge crew from Once Upon a Time in Arendelle. I'm going to say I was distracted by Captain Fitzwilliam. Yes! That's my excuse and the Doylist explanation for that little fudge-up back in Chapter 27. The Watsonian explanation … um … Hans wanted to bargain Elsa down?**

**Attainder/Hanging, drawing, and quartering: Yes, I'm aware these are British legal concepts. And I'm also quite aware that attainder was on its way out by the rough time this story is set (1840s) – in fact, attainder is forbidden by the US Constitution, for all of you who didn't learn a useless fact today. But, it works for the story, and you have to write what you know, and what I know is the Anglo/American legal system.**

**Also, when I tried to do some research on Norway and the death penalty, everything I could find was about how they don't have it anymore, having gotten rid of it before almost anybody else did, only to bring it back briefly after WWII because of Nazi collaborators. So, we take what we can get here.**

**Anyways, thank you for reading, and I hope I'll see you again in Chapter 29!**


	29. The Only Frozen Heart

Chapter 29: The Only Frozen Heart

There was no rest for the weary. Hans's trial continued. While Elsa did not judge it necessary for her to attend as Master Oveson attempted to salvage his case, on the day of the closing arguments, she knew that she would have to be there.

Which led to where she, Anna, and Kristoff (who had been judged well enough to get out of bed, and who had insisted on coming with them) to where they were now: standing at the foot of the narrow staircase leading up to the Queen's box, looking from stairs to Kristoff's leg to Kristoff's crutch. And back again.

"Maybe I should sit downstairs," Kristoff said.

"Don't you dare!" Anna gasped.

"Well, how—"

Elsa held her hand up. "We'll figure it out." She glanced behind her at the guards who accompanied them, smiling again when she saw Corporal Enoksen. "Corporal," she asked, "could you help Master Bjorgman up, please?" She turned again to Kristoff. "Take it one step at a time. There's no rush."

"Maybe you two should go up first," Kristoff replied.

Elsa only shook her head, took Anna's hand and got out of the way.

"Here, Master Bjorgman—"

"_Kristoff_."

"Kristoff," said Corporal Enoksen, "you lean on me, and we'll get you up. One step at time, now, just as the Queen said."

Kristoff's only answer was a grunt. He had put his foot down on the first step, and with Corporal Enoksen's assistance was slowly making his way up the steps.

Anna and Elsa watched without a word.

"Er …" Anna murmured as Kristoff put his foot down on the fifth step, Corporal Enoksen encouraging him, "Maybe we should have gone up first?"

Elsa shook her head. "I want to be behind. Just in case."

"Just in … case?"

To answer, Elsa conjured a bit of snow on her open palm. She raised her eyebrows.

"Ah!" Anna nodded. "Just in case. I get it. I get it."

Eventually Kristoff arrived at the top of the stairs, and Elsa and Anna followed. They took their seats just as Madam Voll was calling the court to order.

Elsa had barely forced herself to take a deep breath, lean back, and try to relax when Anna reached over and grabbed her hand. Elsa smiled and squeezed back.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, both the prosecution and the defense have had their chances to make their cases," Madam Voll began. "They will be given one last chance to sum up their arguments, and then it will be time for you to deliberate. The defense has elected to go last, so the prosecutor will share her remarks with you. Mistress Swenhaugen, are you ready?"

"I am," replied the prosecutor. She slowly rose, the heels of her shoes clacking against the floorboards with each slow, even stride.

Elsa found herself leaning forward and watching as Mistress Swenhaugen stood before the jury. Carefully studying the line of her shoulders and the perfect straightness of her back. The older woman looked perfectly calm and at ease, even though she surely knew as well as Elsa did that her performance in this trial would make or break her reputation for years.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," she began, "I would not blame you if your head was swimming from all of contradictory testimony you have seen and heard over these past weeks. You have seen witnesses swearing that Master Westergaard is all that is evil, while others have claimed that were it not for him, we would have all starved or frozen during the events of last summer. But at the end of the day, what you are being called upon to decide is a simple question. Did Master Hans Westergaard, sometime Prince of the Southern Isles, commit treason and attempted murder last summer? Did he lock Princess Anna in a room and deny her necessary medical care? Did he follow Queen Elsa out onto the ice and attempt to destroy her while she was overwrought and defenseless? Did he sentence her to death beforehand? Or did Master Westergaard do none of those things?

"Let us consider the evidence," Mistress Swenhaugen continued. Her gestures were tight, controlled, but calculated to give the largest effect for the least energy spent. "Once again, I admit freely that the Crown does not have much in the way of physical evidence. This is not a case that admits of much physical evidence. As far as the Crown can determine, Master Westergaard acted alone. He confided his plans to no one except its victims, and then only when he assumed they could do nothing to stop him. Before Master Westergaard chased the Queen onto the ice, his chief weapons were words: ephemeral words, words that could be twisted to mean whatever Master Westergaard wanted you to think they meant.

"But we do have witnesses. Many witnesses," Mistress Swenhaugen nodded. "You have heard from all of them. You heard palace guards relating how they saw Master Westergaard menace Queen Elsa on the ice. You heard guards from the town jail tell you how Master Westergaard admitted, with his own lips, that he had sentenced Queen Elsa to death for treason. You heard the words of various citizens who all described the same scene on the frozen fjord: Queen Elsa, distraught, her back to Master Westergaard as he approached her with sword upraised – and then how, at the last moment, she was saved by Princess Anna's heroic sacrifice."

At the mention of that sacrifice, Elsa squeezed Anna's hand.

"However, most importantly, you heard the testimony of the two people who were the most injured by Master Westergaard's schemes: Queen Elsa and Princess Anna. You heard Princess Anna tell you how Master Westergaard had treason in his heart from the minute he met her – planning to woo Princess Anna, marry her, and arrange an 'accident' for the Queen as soon as it was convenient. The events of the coronation ball only changed how Master Westergaard put his plans into effect, not the substance of them.

"But." Mistress Swenhaugen let the word stand as its own sentence, still and alone, hanging in midair and waiting for more words to join it. "You all heard the defense's theory – that Master Westergaard only sought to strike Queen Elsa because she asked him to do so, and that everything is nothing more than a lie and a cover-up. It is a good thing that the defense need not prove its case, only make a suggestion, for there is not a shred of evidence to support the defense's assertion. The Crown at least has the word of dozens of witnesses – the defense has only the word of Master Westergaard himself.

"So the case comes down to this: who is it more reasonable to believe? Think of how the witnesses all responded under cross-examination. Think of how the Queen and Princess Anna were able to answer the defense's questions easily, without ever deviating from their story – indeed, the only difference introduced was by Princess Anna, and what she admitted under cross-examination was more damning to Master Westergaard's character than virtually anything she had said before! Think, too, of Master Westergaard: how he became haughty and defensive, how he did his best to avoid answering questions, how the details of his story fell apart as he spoke."

Mistress Swenhaugen took one last deep breath and folded her hands in front of her. "The Crown asserts this: Master Westergaard is the worst kind of traitor there is. He set foot on Arendelle's shores intending to usurp the throne by any means necessary. Once here, he drew in Princess Anna, gained her trust, and abused it most shamefully. Before he was done, he attempted to kill Princess Anna by locking her in a freezing room and denying her any help or care at all. He then sentenced the Queen to death, falsely claiming that she had killed Princess Anna. When she was able to escape from the prison, he followed her onto the fjord, attempting to carry out the 'sentence' himself. Ladies and gentlemen, this is treason from beginning to end. If you find that Master Westergaard has done all of these things, then you must find him guilty: guilty of treason, guilty of the attempted murder of Princess Anna, and guilty of the attempted murder of Queen Elsa."

With that Mistress Swenhaugen bowed her head and stepped back. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your time and your attention. Your Honor, the prosecution rests."

"Thank you, Counsel. Master Oveson?" asked Madam Voll.

Elsa found herself leaning forward, trying to read Master Oveson. The frightened, worried man she had seen when Hans first escaped seemed to be gone. In its place was the secure and confident counselor, the best defense lawyer in a generation, and he knew it to.

Except … there was something slower in the way he moved. His shoulders were a little more bowed, his head a little heavier. When he turned to the jury, he stood and stared at them for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

He took a deep breath. When he did, the court held its breath.

"Well, this was something of a wild ride, was it not, ladies and gentlemen?" asked Master Oveson. "It seems everyone in this town has a different opinion on the state of Master Westergaard's mind last summer. However, as jury, it is your duty to sift through the opinions, weigh all of the facts, and come up with the truth – or at least, as close an approximation to it as can be managed.

"And what are these facts? They are few, and they are simple. Most of them aren't even in argument.

"First: Master Westergaard, then Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, came to Arendelle last summer to witness Queen Elsa's coronation. He met Princess Anna early, before the coronation. The two of them got along quite well, they flirted, they courted, and by the evening's end, Master Westergaard asked for the Princess's hand in marriage, which she gave to him.

"Second: When Princess Anna and Master Westergaard went to ask the Queen's blessing for their union, it touched off an argument that led to the revelation of the Queen's powers. The Queen – there is no other word for this – panicked and ran away. Princess Anna followed, leaving Master Westergaard in charge.

"Third: Master Westergaard led the city as best he could, as his bride-to-be had asked. He did not leave the city limits until Princess Anna's horse came back without her. Once that happened, he organized an expedition to try to find her. While he did not find Princess Anna, he found the Queen, and after saving her life from certain thugs employed by the Duke of Weselton, he brought her back to the city.

"Fourth: Princess Anna came back to the city shortly after this, mortally wounded by – this is important, as no one disputes it – the Queen's magic. Only 'an act of true love' could save her, an act Princess Anna admits she believed to be true love's kiss. She thought only Master Westergaard could save her. She was left alone with him in a room for that life-saving kiss. However, what happened in that room? Only two people know for sure. All we can say with certainty is that whatever it was, it was not the lifesaving kiss Princess Anna needed.

"Fifth: Master Westergaard went to the town jail to fetch Queen Elsa. However, Queen Elsa was terrified – perhaps justifiably, considering that there had already been one attempt on her life – and used her powers to escape. Master Westergaard followed her and they spoke. The next thing that happened – and all of the witnesses agree on this – is that Queen Elsa was kneeling on the ice, Master Westergaard had his sword raised and began to strike, and Princess Anna threw herself between the sword and the Queen.

"Beyond that?" Master Oveson shrugged. "All interpretation!

"Now," he continued, "you have heard two interpretations of these events. One is the Crown's, the other, Master Westergaard's. Whether you judge Master Westergaard to be guilty of treasons, attempted murder, etc., depends on which you believe. Do you believe Master Westergaard's sworn testimony when he says that he never harmed Princess Anna and that he only prepared to strike at the Queen because she herself had asked him to? Or do you believe the Princess and Queen when they insist that Master Westergaard lied to them, betrayed them, and set out trap after trap for them to fall into?

"I cannot tell you which to believe," Master Oveson said, standing a little straighter and adjusting his jacket. "I can only tell you this: if you have any reasonable doubt whatsoever that the Queen and Princess Anna are not telling the truth, it is your duty to acquit Master Westergaard of all charges.

"Another thing to keep in mind: in cases of treason, there is no appeal. The punishment is entirely dependent on the whim of the Queen, though death is the standard punishment. I think we can all agree that the Queen is not likely to deviate from that standard in this case. So consider carefully before you reach your verdict."

Master Oveson stepped forward. "This is the question you must ask yourselves: is the evidence in this case, such as it, strong enough to send a man to his death? If not—you must acquit."

With that, he stepped back, bowed politely to the jury, and returned to this seat.

Elsa took that as her cue to stand.

"Hey—where are you going?" Anna whispered.

Elsa swallowed, glancing from Anna to Kristoff and the guards. "I have to—do something. I'll be back in a moment."

Anna narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but before Elsa could answer her, Madam Voll's voice rang through the courtroom. "Normally, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, it is the custom that I would give you your instructions at this point. However, the Queen has requested the opportunity to speak to you one last time. Having read her planned remarks and determining that they should not unfairly prejudice you against the defendant, I have allowed her to proceed. Your Majesty? You may now address the jury."

"Wait," Anna whispered, "_what_?"

Elsa squeezed her sister's hand one last time before she escaped. "See you in a few minutes."

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury."

Elsa took a deep breath, her hands folded neatly before her, as she surveyed the jury. Twelve very amazed and confused faces surveyed her in turn. Elsa tried to smile a little, to put them at their ease and perhaps put herself at ease as well, but she could not be sure if she was successful.

"I want to—first of all, I want to thank you for all of the time and attention you have given to this trial. I understand it was a great undertaking, and believe me, I know that the hardest part is yet to come. No matter how you find, I know you all will perform your duties well and with all honor." Elsa took a deep breath. "That – that is what I wish to speak to you about. Your duty when it comes time to deliberate.

"I know – believe me I know this better than anyone – that rumors and reports of what transpired when Master Westergaard briefly escaped from the prison have been swirling all over the city. Indeed, I am responsible for quite a few of those reports." She shrugged slightly and tried to keep her hands from twisting together. "However, no matter what you have heard, no matter what you might have read in the paper, no matter what you might have seen with your own eyes … disregard it.

"Disregard _everything_ that did not come from this trial," Elsa said, almost begged. "What Master Westergaard is on trial for are his alleged actions last summer. No more, and certainly no less. If you think that the Crown has proven its case, that Master Westergaard did all that he is said to have done last summer, then vote him guilty. If, however, you are not convinced …" Elsa shrugged again. "Then you must do as the defense has requested: acquit Master Westergaard.

"You must ask yourselves: why is the Queen saying this? Does she not want Master Westergaard to be found guilty? But whether I want Master Westergaard to be found guilty is beside the point. What I want – what I truly want – is for everyone to know that in Arendelle, even those who are accused of heinous crimes are treated fairly. I wish them to know that even alleged traitors are entitled to a trial that is as fair as it can possibly be. Most—most importantly, no matter how you find the defendant, I want everyone to know that it was the _people_ of Arendelle who found Master Westergaard guilty or not guilty. Not the nobles. Not the Council. Not the Queen. The people."

Elsa closed her eyes and breathed in deep before she spoke again. "Return the verdict that you think is most right and fit, and ladies and gentlemen, you will have both done your duty and earned my endless thanks."

She stepped back and nodded once to Madam Voll. "Your Honor, I thank you for allowing me to address the jury. I understand that this is highly irregular, so my thanks are even greater.

"And ladies and gentlemen – thank you, once again, for your time and your willingness to participate in this difficult case. I know you will make Arendelle very proud."

Elsa inclined her head once as a sign of respect, and then she turned away from the jury box, heading back up the aisle to where she had come from.

As she walked, she spared a glance and a cool, regal smile for the prosecution and the defense. Her smile became warmer, though still distant, when she saw the people crowded into the audience. She even managed not to wince when she saw Master Hummel in the front row, duly noting down everything she had said.

_Think of it this way, Elsa: you're stimulating the economy. The people who make ink and paper probably had the best winter they've had in a long time._

When she met with Corporal Enoksen at the start of the aisle, she smiled at him. She smiled and nodded her thanks to the bailiff who opened the doors for them.

There was only one place where she did not look and give a bare minimum of a smile: the defendant's dock.

And it was not until they were out of the courtroom and into the hallway that Elsa felt able to breathe again.

"Everything all right, Your Majesty?" asked the Corporal.

"Yes—yes, thank you. I'm fine."

Corporal Enoksen nodded, but Elsa could feel his eyes on her. "With all due respect – er, what now, Your Majesty? Shall we be heading back to the palace, or …"

"There's no telling how long it will take for the jury to deliberate," Elsa shook her head. "But all the same … I think I should like to stay here, at least until the court closes for the day. I don't want to make Kristoff go up those stairs twice in one day if I can possibly avoid it."

"Right you are, Your Majesty. And don't worry about the waiting." He tapped his pocket and winked. "I came prepared."

"… Oh?" Elsa asked.

With a smile, Corporal Enoksen reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of playing cards.

Elsa couldn't help it. She laughed, hiding her mouth behind one hand. "Indeed you did, Corporal. Thank you."

* * *

They waited, putting Corporal Enoksen's cards to excellent use. There were any number of card games one could play with five players, and with Elsa's magic to create a table, extra stools for the guards, and a temporary slick of ice on the floor to make it easier to move her throne and the other two chairs, playing was as easy as anyone could wish.

However, even playing cards left time for conversation and explanations. "So, um, Your Majesty," Kristoff said with a sidelong glance at the guards, "the—the other lawyer said something about … you have to choose his," Kristoff nodded in the general direction of the dock, "punishment?"

"Yes. That's been the case in Arendelle for … goodness, hundreds of years."

Kristoff looked at his cards. "… Wow."

"Yeah …" Anna bit her lip, glanced at the guards, then tossed one braid defiantly over her shoulder. "Elsa, are you sure you're going to be all right with that?"

Even if Elsa wasn't all right with that, what could she do about it? It was too late to throw hundreds of years of tradition out the window. "The ultimate decision as to his punishment is mine in any case," Elsa shrugged. "I can't get out of it. I—I ought to at least be able to speak it in public."

She tried to concentrate on her cards, but she couldn't help but notice how Kristoff and Anna exchanged worried glances. Corporal Enoksen and Sergeant Mortensen also seemed less than perfectly at ease and comfortable.

"So—so wait a minute. If the jury were to come out in the next five minutes and find that – that – _person_ guilty, you'd have to announce the sentence on him right then and there?" Kristoff's jaw was hanging open.

"Oh, no," Anna said, thankfully, so Elsa didn't have to. "There's some time – a few days, right? Because after Elsa gives the sentence …" Anna swallowed. "It's carried out. Immediately."

"… Oh," Kristoff murmured.

Elsa closed her eyes. "Can we—please talk about something else?"

"Sure!" Anna answered before Kristoff could. "So—Sergeant Mortensen!"

The poor guard looked up, startled.

"What's your favorite kind of chocolate?"

Elsa giggled, even as Kristoff rolled his eyes and Sergeant Mortensen stammered out that he preferred plain milk chocolate, when he could get it.

They kept playing.

* * *

In all, the jury took only five hours to deliberate. _Only?_ Elsa wondered as she made the table vanish and added a bit of ice to the floor again. The guards moved her throne and Anna and Kristoff's chairs back into place. _Was it really only five hours?_

Was five hours a lot? Was it a little? Elsa had no idea. There was no one she could ask, at least not yet. She could only hop back on the throne, sit, wait, and fidget.

And there was still waiting to do. The defendant had to be brought back in. So did the lawyers. Madam Voll was kind enough to wait for at least Master Hummel to return, though how long she waited for everyone else, Elsa wasn't sure.

All told, it was an excruciatingly long hour before the court had reassembled and everyone was back in their places. When order was called and Madam Voll entered the court again, there was complete silence.

It seemed to take forever for the judge to take her seat, make herself comfortable, and turn to the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?"

"We have, Your Honor." That must have been the jury foreman. Elsa swallowed and began to tap on the armrest of her chair.

"Bailiff?" asked Madam Voll. The bailiff stepped forward, took the sealed verdict from the jury foreman's hand, and brought it over to Madam Voll.

Slowly, Madam Voll popped the seal. She adjusted her pince-nez. She scooted back in her chair so she could catch the light better.

She read the verdict to herself. And then she read it again.

Elsa only realized that the chair was freezing under her hands when her nail rang against ice instead of wood.

Finally, Madam Voll nodded and set the verdict aside. "Very well. Master Foreman, for the charge of attempted murder in the first degree, regarding Princess Anna, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant … guilty, Your Honor."

A gasp rang through the courtroom. Anna let out a long breath. Elsa went to put her arm around her sister only to smack into Kristoff's arm. They shared a small smile over Anna's head.

"And in the charge of attempted murder in the first degree, regarding Queen Elsa, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant guilty, Your Honor."

Another gasp. And now Anna was hugging Elsa around the shoulder, pulling Kristoff with her other hand so he could hug her too.

"And in the charge of treason, how do you find?"

Silence.

"We find the defendant … guilty."

Elsa shuddered with relief.

"Well, _duh_," Anna murmured into her ear. "He tried to kill the both of us!"

"That—that he did," Elsa murmured.

There was activity going on in the courtroom. Madam Voll was thanking the jury for their service, intermittently banging her gavel and shouting for order. The buzz that had picked up hadn't abated a bit. Finally, when she had banged it enough, the buzz ended.

"Now that's enough! I just have a few more things to say, and then the rest of you can talk and gasp and exclaim all you please!" Madam Voll huffed. "Master Westergaard. You have been found guilty in a court of law on two counts of attempted murder and one of treason. Because of your treason, your sentence will be handed down by the Queen herself in three days. You will be given one chance to plead your case before the Queen herself, but afterward, she will pronounce the sentence, and it will be carried out immediately. I suggest you keep that in mind and prepare yourself accordingly." Madam Voll banged her gavel once more. "This trial is concluded. Bailiff, take the defendant away!"

"This is—" That was Hans. But Elsa never heard how he finished.

"Down with the traitor!" came a cry from below.

"Aye, he's caused enough trouble!"

"Get him out of here!"

"Hear, hear!"

From her vantage point, Elsa could just see the guards grab Hans roughly by the shoulders and take him away. She heard the cheer that came up when he was taken out.

But what she heard next was something she had never expected to hear in Madam Voll's courtroom.

"Three cheers for Arendelle! Long live Arendelle!"

"Long live Princess Anna!" came another voice.

And finally: "Long live THE QUEEN!"

* * *

**LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!**

**Now that I have that out of my system, some thank-yous are in order! Thank you to my wonderful reviewers, Weldon Kenfield, Jacob Flores, Penmaster1547, Ryu Kitsune Bard84, RJCA27, TheHumanCanvas, CrunchDeNumbers, and Guest!**

**And an extra-special thank-you to homers8736, because I forgot him/her last time! I'm so sorry about that!**

**Now, to answer your question, Guest: why use a bill of attainder when they could sue the estates? Because a bill of attainder takes five minutes, a lawsuit takes months, and I want to wrap up all of the loose ends in this story before moving onto the sequel.**

… **Yes, I said sequel. But hold your horses! It's still in the rough planning stages. Do not look for it any time soon!**

**That being said, thanks for reading, and I'll see you all again in Chapter 30!**


	30. Hang in There

Chapter 30: Hang in There

"I must thank you again for coming on such short notice," Elsa said as she took a seat on the sofa next to her guest. "Tea?"

"I never say no to tea from the palace," replied her guest. Elsa poured him a cup and handed it over. He took a long sip, settling back with a happy sigh. "What _does_ Mistress Hansdatter put in this?"

Elsa chuckled. Gerda's recipe for her special tea was guarded by the woman herself with the same fierceness that governments used to protect their most damaging of state secrets. _And she would know how to keep a damaging state secret, too. How many years did she keep mine?_

She took a deep breath and shook her head. Today was a day for happy thoughts. Hans had been found guilty the day before, which meant she had all of today and tomorrow to enjoy before she would have to sentence him. She intended to make the most of it.

She intended to settle an important debt, too. She took the slim envelope from where it had been lying next to the sugar bowl. "For you, sir. I must thank you again for all you did."

Master Oveson smiled, took the envelope and tucked it into his breast pocket. He did not open it up to look at the check inside. Elsa supposed it was highly unnecessary. One did not underpay a lawyer of Master Oveson's caliber. If you tried, he would sue you for everything you had, and then some.

"I have always been pleased to do my patriotic duty, Your Majesty," he replied. "All the same, I am glad that trial is over."

Elsa sighed. "I, too."

He snorted. "I shouldn't wonder at that. You and Princess Anna must have had some tense moments throughout."

The teacup in Elsa's hand began to rattle and she hastily put it down on the tray. "Well … yes."

"You wanted the trial to be fair," Master Oveson pointed out.

"No, sir. I _wanted_ the whole matter to just go away," Elsa replied. "I _needed_ the trial to be fair." She took a deep breath. "But that part—it's over now. Over and done. And all of Arendelle knows that Hans is guilty, and they know that – that it was the people of Arendelle who found him guilty. Not the Queen. Not the Council. The people."

"Does it really make a difference?" asked Master Oveson, taking another long sip of tea. "How many were there who didn't believe he was guilty?"

Elsa thought of the town jail and the thirty or so men sitting inside of it, anxiously awaiting their fate. All of them had taken the deal she had offered, and they would be sentenced the same day as Hans.

All of them, that is, except Knut Strand. The gods had pronounced their sentence on him, rendering anything Elsa might choose to do moot.

"Other, of course, than the rabble he attempted to raise," Master Oveson went on, as if he could read her thoughts. Perhaps he could. It would explain why he had been able to rise so far in his chosen profession. "Though it's not much of a rabble, if you ask _me_. If there had been actual, widespread discontent with your rule, Your Majesty, I would have thought that a charismatic figure like Westergaard might have been able to get more than two dozen men in an abandoned warehouse behind him."

"Charismatic," Elsa repeated.

"Quite," Master Oveson nodded. "How do you think he managed to win you sister's trust and regard? Whatever Westergaard's faults, and they are legion, he at least knows how to frame his words so that people will listen and believe what he says – even if they are otherwise inclined. Were it not for cross-examination," he shook his head, "he might have even won the jury over with that … ridiculous explanation of his."

"So you didn't believe it?" Elsa asked.

Master Oveson's snort spoke more than words ever could.

"I … didn't see the cross examination," Elsa murmured. She folded her hands in her lap, took a deep breath, and forced herself to sit up straight and regard Master Oveson levelly. "I was … indisposed. What happened?"

Master Oveson regarded her just as levelly. "Indisposed, eh?" He nodded. "I thought it grew a little chilly in the courtroom … however," he took another sip, "what happened, in short, was that Westergaard's story fell apart. That's the sort of thing that happens with just-so stories. Poke it too many times with a stick, and it will collapse under its own weight," Master Oveson shrugged.

"I see," Elsa murmured. She dared to pick up her teacup and saucer again. There was no rattling. She took a quick sip before her tea grew too cold. "I would find it strange, though, that his lawyer would allow him to proceed with such a strategy, if he thought it likely to fail."

Master Oveson chuckled. "Come now, Your Majesty – I was not your tutor in law so long ago as _that_. Surely you remember that a lawyer can only give advice? It is up to the client whether he wishes to follow that advice or not."

"Ah, yes. Of course. How could I have forgotten?" Elsa asked, glancing sidelong at Master Oveson. "So … let us say, hypothetically …" She bit her lip, unsure whether the ice she was about to step on was as solid as she was hoping it was.

Master Oveson's eyebrows went up, and Elsa took a deep breath and stepped out.

"If a skilled lawyer were to be attempting to defend a client like Hans, what sort of defense strategy would you – hypothetically, of course – suggest he take?"

"Hypothetically?" Master Oveson nodded slowly. "Well … _hypothetically_ … a plea of justification might not be amiss. With uncontrolled magic on the loose … a mortally wounded princess … men have done worse than Westergaard in similar circumstances, and no one has batted an eyelash."

Elsa swallowed and looked away.

"However, that being said, those men – or at least, those men of whom we hear – had one thing in common, and that is that they succeeded. I wonder how their cases would have fared, had their, shall we say, victims been alive and able to take the stand against them?"

Elsa blinked, her eyebrows knitting. She stared at her hands.

They were, as ever, pale and small. Perfectly manicured, with nails trimmed and neat. They didn't look like the hands that could cast an eternal winter on an unsuspecting land. They didn't look like hands that could nearly kill a sister, twice.

But … they didn't look like hands that could raise an ice palace out of nothing, either. They didn't look like hands that could create a very good, if not perfect, replica of a city. They didn't look like hands that could create _life_.

"I wonder," Elsa replied, "how many … other people have gone down in history as villains, evil, without ever having a chance to tell their side of the story."

"Many. Probably far many more than have gone down as heroes. But let me point this out, Your Majesty," Master Oveson went on, "no one will ever be able to say that of Westergaard. He had his chance to tell his side of the story. Whether he took advantage of it and told the truth, well, only he can say. But already, no matter what you decide in two days' time, you have shown him far more mercy than he ever showed you."

Elsa looked up, her lips slightly parted and a flush covering her cheeks.

"Of course, that's assuming that the jury found correctly when it found Westergaard guilty of attempted murder, treason, et cetera." Master Oveson leaned back in the sofa's cushions. "As his lawyer still, technically, I suppose I am contractually obligated to put forth the opinion that the jury erred most grievously in this case."

"But perhaps," Elsa asked, "in private, merely as a citizen …?"

Master Oveson glanced at her with a hint of a smile. "A good lawyer is never in private, never merely a citizen. However, that being said, I doubt many private citizens would disagree with the jury's verdict. Certainly none in _my _household."

He winked. And Elsa grinned.

* * *

The tea finished and his check safely in his pocket, Master Oveson politely took his leave of Elsa not long afterward. Elsa glanced at the clock. Good – she still had half an hour before her next visitor was due to arrive. That was plenty of time for her to sit behind her desk and look busy. She might even get some paperwork done.

So she sat down at her desk, took the first sheet off the pile, scanned it carefully, and signed it. And then she took the next one. And the next one. And the next.

Thirty-five minutes passed before she looked again at her clock. _Oh dear,_ she thought, but kept working.

At forty-five minutes, she was mildly surprised at her visitor's lateness.

At fifty, she began to get annoyed.

When an hour had passed from the time she sat down, there came what felt like a deliberately slow knock at her door. Elsa looked up. "Yes?"

Sergeant Pedersen – even with Hans found guilty and the rebels apprehended, Elsa was not ready to let go of all the extra security measures – opened the door quite slowly indeed. "Master Arud is here to see you, Your Majesty. Do you have a few moments to spare for him?"

Was he … smiling? The way his scar cut across his cheek made it hard to tell. She was almost certain that there was a twinkle in his eye.

"Of course she has a few minutes! She summoned _me_ here!" Elsa heard Arud grumble. "And it's Councilor Arud!"

"Your Majesty?" asked Sergeant Pedersen. That was most definitely a smile.

"Please, send him in," Elsa replied. She remembered what Marte had said: _"Most of us would be cheering to see him gone!"_ Not for the first time, she wondered who "us" were. The servants at the palace? The people of the city?

_The next time I see Marte, I'll ask her._

She put her papers to the side and waited, hands folded on her desk. Elsa took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself.

She was not anticipating a pleasant conversation.

When Arud came in, the petulant man she had heard grumbling outside the door seemed to be gone. In his place was a jumpy man, a man whose eyes darted about the room, a man who scarcely remembered to bow as he came into the room. "Your—Your Majesty. Good morning."

"Good afternoon, I believe," replied Elsa, looking significantly at the clock.

"Er—er, yes, of course. I am so sorry for my tardiness, Your Majesty. I—I underestimated the amount of security that would remain, even after the danger had passed."

Elsa had slowly let one eyebrow rise in a trick she had copied from her father, but when Arud mentioned that the danger had passed, her face became completely blank. It was still her fallback defense mechanism.

_Breathe, Elsa. Breathe._

"Well … I accept your apology," Elsa replied. She couldn't resist adding, "After all, everyone is late from time to time. It's certainly nothing to get upset about."

She shouldn't have. She truly shouldn't have. A Queen ought to have more dignity than that. But there was something cruelly satisfying in seeing Arud wince.

"Er—well, yes, of course—I—"

"Please sit, Councilor Arud," Elsa said.

Arud sat.

She took a deep breath. "Councilor, I see no reason to beat around the bush with this," she began. "I have grave doubts about whether it would be wise for you to continue to serve on my Council."

Arud's jaw fell. "But—but, Your Majesty!"

Again, Elsa raised an eyebrow.

"It—it was but one outburst …" he whispered.

"It wasn't so much that you lost your temper," Elsa replied. "It was what you said, sir. Things like 'foolish little girl.' And 'throwing a temper tantrum.' And …"

Elsa swallowed. Her mouth went dry, and she found herself wishing for Gerda's tea again. "'She's dangerous.'"

For once, Elsa wasn't the palest person in the room. Arud had gone positively white. "I—I scarcely remember what I was saying—"

"How fortunate for you, to so easily forget such an embarrassing moment," Elsa shrugged. "However, I cannot forget."

"Your Majesty—I can explain—"

"That you think I am a dangerous, foolish little girl, inclined to throwing temper tantrums that blanket the entire city in ice and snow?" Elsa asked.

"I—well, of course I don't _actually_ think that—"

Elsa looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Indeed? Then why would you say it?"

"Your—Your Majesty," Arud stammered. He brought out a handkerchief and began to mop his brow with it. "Is—do you find it rather warm in here?"

Elsa blinked. She couldn't remember the last time someone had asked her if she thought the room rather warm. She couldn't remember the last time anyone in a room had felt the heat more strongly than she had. "Er – I can make it cooler, if you like."

Arud froze. Slowly, he looked up at her, the handkerchief still just touching his forehead.

Elsa could only stare back.

It was just as she had always feared. There was nothing but fear in his eyes. Fear of her powers, fear of _her_. Fear that she would take his discomfort with the temperature and use it as an excuse to—what? Blanket the room in winter?

_Fear will be your enemy._

Elsa forced herself to stare at that expression, forced herself to burn it into her mind. It would give her the courage to say what she knew she had to say next.

"Councilor Arud, I cannot imagine that this meeting is any more pleasant for you than it is for me. So I will be brief, and I will be blunt. I cannot afford to have men like you on my Council."

"Your Majesty—!"

Elsa raised her hand. "I cannot afford to have men – or women – who look at me and see a petulant young girl. I am quite aware that I cannot rule Arendelle alone. I am quite aware that I am young and lack experience. But I am willing to work, and I am willing to learn. I cannot have people on my Council who will accuse me of acting like a child simply because I act in ways with which they disagree."

"I—Your Majesty, I can _explain_—"

"I am not finished, sir. There is one other thing I cannot have. I cannot have men or women on my Council who look at me and see a monster."

Arud went pale. "I—I don't—"

"Yes, sir, you do," Elsa interrupted. "I have arcane powers that are difficult – no, _impossible_ – to explain. And my control of them has been far from perfect. But—listen to me, Councilor—_that does not make me a monster_. I have spent my entire life trying to control these powers. I have spent my entire life trying to use them for good, or failing that, not use them at all. So if I should offer to make a room cooler for a man who has expressed that he is feeling overheated, I do _not_ need that man to look at me like I suggested sacrificing an infant at the full moon to propitiate the gods of the weather."

"You …" Arud spoke as if his mouth was as dry as Elsa's. "You cannot expect everyone to get used to your powers so quickly, Your Majesty! You—you froze the kingdom!"

"I did, and because of that, I quite understand that there are many in this kingdom who might still fear me, and who might never grow comfortable with me. As long as they abide by the law, I respect and understand that opinion. However, I think I have the right to demand that my Council not be made up of those people. It is, after all, _my_ Council."

"So—so that is it?" Arud growled. "After all my years of service to your father and you, I am to be stripped of my rank and tossed out like so much baggage?"

"No." Elsa carefully placed her hands on her lap. "In recognition of your many years of service, you will be given a chance to resign. Should you take it, you will be seen out of office with all of the appropriate fanfare – a farewell banquet, the customary gift, and of course, the eternal gratitude of the Queen."

"And if I don't?" Arud asked.

"Then you will be stripped of your rank and tossed out like so much baggage."

Arud's jaw fell. After a moment, he finally gained the wherewithal to shut his mouth. It clicked quite audibly.

He frowned in thought. Elsa sat up straighter and merely waited.

Finally he spoke. "How—how long would I have to tender my resignation?"

"I believe twenty-four hours would be ample time to compose a letter and have it delivered," Elsa replied. "So shall we say … one o'clock tomorrow?"

Arud glanced behind him at the clock on the mantel. "That … would be ample time, I believe. However – unless Your Majesty has other things you would like to discuss – I believe I should leave and compose the letter quickly. I would hate for it to be – understandably held up by your security forces, only to find that I had missed my window of opportunity."

"Oh, I would forgive some slight tardiness," Elsa replied with a small smile. "After all, I'm hardly in a position to judge."

Arud scowled. "Well, you are most generous, Your Majesty." He rose and bowed. "It has been an _honor_ to serve you."

"And I have always been most grateful for your service," Elsa replied.

Arud didn't answer. Instead, he took that as his dismissal, bowed again, and stormed out.

Elsa felt herself breathe out again as soon as he was gone.

_I am grateful for your service – but not nearly as grateful as I am to see you go._

* * *

Most of the second day after the trial, barring the few minutes she took to read over Arud's official resignation and accept it, Elsa spent neck-deep in negotiations with Weselton. But it was a good thing. They were haggling over the final details, finalizing everything, perfecting everything. Arendelle's lawyers and the foreign ministry were already looking over the final product. A copy of the treaty had been sent on their fastest ship to Weselton. Assuming that all went well, they should be ready to sign the treaty in a little more than a week.

That, in Elsa's mind, made it a good day. She got the sense from the relieved looks on the faces of Nick, Master Grahn and Master Pilkvist that the odds of Weselton rejecting the treaty were remote. And there was one provision in the treaty that made her very happy indeed.

Weselton's embassy, which had closed after she had the Duke and his goons thrown out of the country, was going to open again. So was Arendelle's embassy in Weselton, but that wasn't what made Elsa so happy. If Weselton was going to have an embassy …

That meant that Nick would be staying in Arendelle for the foreseeable future.

So it was with a smile on her face and joy in her heart that she accepted his tentative, whispered offer to go stargazing. He'd seemed a little surprised when she did – but her grin had quickly wiped it away.

They had spent the past hour on the parapet surrounding the south tower, gazing through Nick's telescope. Saturn was still in view, and Elsa couldn't resist having another look at the beautiful planet. But that was not all they looked at. Nick showed her the Milky Way. They looked at Gemini and the Pleiades. Nick even turned his telescope toward the moon, and Elsa exclaimed over its pockmarked surface.

But now they had retreated into the tower itself. The space wasn't big, but it was just big enough for a bench built for two and a small table. On the table was a spirit lamp heating some milk.

Just before the milk came to a boil, Elsa rescued it from the spirit lamp. She mixed it in with the chocolate she had already melted to perfection. A bit of sugar, some crushed peppermint, and it was ready to pour. Which she did, into two small mugs that had been brought up for the purpose.

She lifted hers as Nick lifted his. "Cheers?"

"Cheers," he said. They clinked mugs and drank.

Nick put his mug down and pulled a flask out of the pocket of his greatcoat. "Some of us need a little extra help to keep warm," he said with a smile. Then he gestured with the flask to her. "Would you like some? It's only brandy."

"No, thank you," Elsa smiled. She took a sip of her chocolate. "This is plenty warm enough for me."

Nick smiled in return, added a dollop of brandy to the hot chocolate, and leaned back, taking another sip. He put his free arm around Elsa's shoulders. She took the invitation and snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Oh, yes," she murmured. "This is _quite_ warm enough." She batted her eyelashes at Nick in an attempt to be flirtatious.

He chuckled. She loved how she could feel the laugh rise from deep within him, loved how she could feel the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders. Loved that after so many years, she could be close to someone without fearing hurting them.

"Thank you, by the way," she murmured. "For inviting me out here. I needed this."

"Thank you for accepting," he answered. "I was afraid you'd say no … don't you need your beauty sleep?" he teased.

"I thought you said I _didn't_ need beauty sleep," Elsa teased back, trying to pout and having to break it off with a giggle.

"Allow me to rephrase. Don't you _think_ you need your beauty sleep?"

"Much better," Elsa replied. "However, as it so happens, I have the entire morning free. So I can have my chocolate," she lifted her mug, "and drink it too."

"You have the—" Nick began, and stopped. "Oh."

_Blast,_ Elsa thought. She'd gone and stepped in it, hadn't she? The topic she had been hoping to avoid: the sentencing tomorrow.

"It's not until noon," Elsa explained, not bothering to mention what "it" was – he knew, she knew he knew, and he knew that she knew that he knew. "And I cleared my schedule for the morning. I'm going to be a nervous wreck and useless, and I know I will be, so I might as well accept it and not … upset myself further by trying to get things done."

Nick's only reply was to slowly and carefully hold her closer.

"But …" Elsa began.

She was interrupted. "Have you … talked to your sister about it?"

Elsa nodded. "Yes. I—told her everything. I couldn't keep _her_ in suspense. And she … understands."

Nick pressed his lips to her temple. "Good," he murmured into her hair.

Elsa permitted herself a small smile. It was good. If Anna hadn't understood, Elsa could never have gone through with her plan.

Not, of course, that she was technically supposed to have a plan. She wasn't supposed to make any final decisions until she had heard his plea. But … after all they had been through … how could she not?

"… Elsa?" Nick asked.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want me to be there? Tomorrow?"

Elsa looked up in some surprise.

"I will admit that I had planned not to be around," Nick shifted uncomfortably, "because—well—even if there are a hundred more interesting things going on, all it takes is one gossip to notice, and—"

"You're trying to avoid causing an international incident," Elsa filled in.

Nick nodded with relief. "The first thing King Albin did when he came to the throne was break off trade with us. I think the only reason why King Christian hadn't done it himself was because he was too ill and too … distracted with his youngest son to care much. I … you understand, I don't—"

"Nick. Of course I understand." Elsa reached for his hand. "You don't want to do anything that would put your country at risk."

"Yes. Precisely. But … if you need me to be there … I'll figure something out. Perhaps a disguise."

Elsa looked up with a raised eyebrow. "A disguise."

"Yes …"

"And … how to do you plan to manage that?"

"Well … admittedly I haven't quite thought it through … but if a ridiculous false nose and a pair of spectacles is a common disguise …" Nick rubbed his chin. "Perhaps I could lose the spectacles and procure myself a slightly less ridiculous nose as a false nose?"

Elsa stared at him for a moment openmouthed, and then she laughed. "_Nick_!" She leaned forward and deposited a quick kiss on his nose. "You do not have a ridiculous nose."

Now it was Nick's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Elsa. Let's be realistic."

"_I_ do not think that you have a ridiculous nose. And as I am Queen …" She lightly tapped his nose. "I win."

"You do realize you are quite possibly the only person who thinks that."

"I doubt it. Kristoff also lives in this castle. And let's not forget _Olaf_," Elsa pointed off. "At least your nose doesn't come off when you sneeze."

Nick blinked. "What."

"It's happened," Elsa replied. "Several times. And if he's anywhere near Sven, it's a mad dash to grab the nose before Sven decides that _this_ will be the time that he actually eats it."

Nick stared at her, jaw fallen, before he let his head fall back against the wall. "I don't know what's more surprising. That Olaf's nose comes off when he sneezes, or that he sneezes at all." He hesitated, then added, "Honestly, the thought of you all chasing after the carrot to keep the reindeer from eating it is the most normal thing about this picture."

"Hear, hear."

Nick glanced sidelong at her and smiled. He let one hand delicately trace up and down her arm.

Elsa let her body relax against his.

They sat like that for quite some time, silent and still. Their chocolate was growing cold, and neither cared.

Elsa couldn't let herself care for anything else as she leaned against Nick. She could feel every breath, every little shift and movement. Next to him, she was warm and happy and safe. Was this how Anna felt when she was alone with Kristoff? Was this why Anna seemed to forget what propriety was when she got close to him?

She closed her eyes. She almost could have fallen asleep – but there was nothing she wanted to do less.

So when she felt Nick suddenly sit up, she opened her eyes with a bit of a frown. But Nick wasn't looking at her. He was staring out the window, and his face was—green?

"Elsa, look," he whispered. "The Aurora borealis."

Elsa looked up. She gasped. "The sky's awake!"

"I—what?"

"Sorry. It was—something Anna used to say. When she was little. She … she used to wake up, and … we'd go play …"

"It sounds like fun," Nick replied, holding her a little closer.

Elsa thought back. She thought of many nights – not just _that night_ – in the ballroom-turned-winter-wonderland. She thought of snow angels, snowball fights, and snowmen. She thought of tickle bumps and watching the snow fall.

She smiled. "It was."

She heard and felt Nick sigh as he leaned back with a smile. "One of the best things about being so far north," he remarked.

Elsa nodded.

For a few moments they simply watched the play of the lights in the sky, in the small, narrow view they could manage through the window. They could have gone back to the parapet to watch them outside, but that would have required moving.

"So," Nick finally spoke. "You never answered. Do you want me to be there tomorrow … or don't you?"

Elsa looked up, lips slightly parted, a thousand words crowding her mind.

She could point out all the reasons why Nick didn't have to do that. She could point out all the reasons why, perhaps, he _shouldn't_ do that. She could say any number of things.

Or she could tell the truth.

"… Yes."

Nick smiled. He leaned in and kissed her, once, very gently. His lips tasted of chocolate, mint, and a hint of brandy. Intoxicating.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to give him room to speak. "Then I'll be there," he replied.

This time it was Elsa who leaned in and kissed him. Her kiss was not so gentle. She grabbed his shirt and clung to it, leaning closer, almost climbing onto his lap.

But Nick didn't seem to mind at all.

Perhaps he wasn't the only one who was intoxicating.

* * *

**Yes, yes, I'm making you wait another chapter for the sentencing. Sue me. ;) There were loose ends that needed tying.**

**But before you call your lawyer, let me thank my reviewers: bandgeek63, Penmaster1547, Batman1809, Jacob Flores, tim green 5, yet another Guest (or are you all the same Guest?), LadybugTamer, taylorjago, CrunchDeNumbers, homers8736, RJCA27, TheHumanCanvas, and new reviewer Barend von Eck!**

**Two more chapters to go, people. And Chapter 31 will be … the sentencing!**


	31. Beautiful! Powerful! Dangerous! Cold!

Chapter 31: Beautiful! Powerful! Dangerous! Cold!

For every dark cloud, there was a silver lining. Today was not likely to be a good, pleasant day. But there was one good, pleasant part.

Marte was back.

Her father had been released from the infirmary some days ago. Marte had spent that time caring for him at their home. But now he was well enough to be left on his own, though in truth he wasn't on his own, because he would be coming to the sentencing.

Marte was brushing Elsa's hair out now, slowly and carefully, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Elsa had given her free rein as far as her hairstyle was concerned. "Are you sure you won't tell me what you have in mind as far as a dress, Your—Elsa?" she asked.

Elsa managed a small smile. "I … I'm not sure what you will think of it." She glanced at Anna, too, who was sprawled out on Elsa's bed, clearly not minding much if her gown became wrinkled. Then again, it probably didn't matter much. The sentencing would be taking place in the castle courtyard, and Anna's cloak would \cover her gown entirely. "So it might need some adjustments. But I trust you for this, Marte."

"Well, I should hope so," Marte said, grinning into the mirror. She reached for the first hairpin. "Now, hold still …"

Marte worked swiftly, her fingers deftly twisting, turning, and pinning Elsa's hair. When she finished, Elsa's hair was piled on top of her head in a careful arrangement of curls and body. "There. You like it, Elsa?"

Elsa grinned. "I—I do!" She got up from behind the vanity. "It—it's _so_ good to have you back, Marte." She held her arms open hesitantly.

Marte was much better at this sort of thing, for she instantly came in for a hug. Anna was better still. "Yay! Group hug!"

Not for the first time, Elsa considered that she would probably be exiled forthwith from the continent's royalty if they could see her as she acted with her so-called inferiors. Perhaps for the first time, Elsa thought it well worth it.

Marte was the first to let go. "Now, Elsa! Let's get your cosmetics all set."

"Of course!" Elsa replied. She sat back down again, and in no time, Marte had her brushes, creams and powders out.

"Subtle, Elsa?"

"Relatively. I do need to be seen from a long way off. But at the same time …"

"You don't want to look like you've come direct from the wrong end of town. Right." Marte bit her lip, eyebrow raised, and surveyed Elsa's face carefully. "I know! Hold still, now."

For the second time, Elsa did as she had been bid.

After a few moments, Marte said, "All right—you can look now."

Elsa looked. The face that stared at her looked much as it had the day of her coronation – light eye shadow and lipstick, just a dash of blush, eyelashes darkened considerably. But she smiled. There was a reason she had done her makeup that way that day – and it was good to know that an expert like Marte agreed with her choice now. "That looks lovely. Thank you, Marte."

"My pleasure! Now!" Marte took a step back. "Let's see this dress!"

"All right … Anna, you step back, too."

"Pfft, as if making a _dress_ ever hurt anyone," Anna replied, rolling her eyes, though she did step back with Marte.

"Says the woman who had how many pins stuck into her ba—into _her_ when she was getting her coronation gown fitted?" asked Elsa, raising one eyebrow.

"That was different! The dressmaker had it out for me!"

Elsa allowed herself to roll her eyes once before she took a deep breath, closed them, and unleashed the magic.

Just as before, she felt the ice crawling up her from the ground up, coating her petticoat, corset and chemise. Elsa breathed deep and let the magic work. She could see it all so clearly in her mind …

When she opened her eyes, she looked first to the full-length mirror.

Her gown had appeared just as she had imagined and practiced it. Like her other ice dress, this one was blue, the gradient making it lighter on the bodice and darker the further down the skirt one went. It too had a cape. But that was where the similarities ended.

This dress was far more formal and far less form-fitting. The sleeves of white, translucent ice were loose on her arms. The gown was gathered by a dark blue sash just under her bust and fell in a relatively straight A-line from there. As for the cape, this one had a high, standing collar that Elsa had managed to make pure white. It was embroidered with small snowflake designs around the edges.

"… Whoa," said Anna, the first to speak. "Elsa, you look …"

Elsa turned around, biting her lip. "I can make changes—"

"No! No, no changes," Anna shook her head. "It's just—you look—you look like you could go out and prod buttock, as Captain Vilmarsen would say."

Elsa glanced at Marte to find her nodding vigorously. She breathed out a sigh of relief.

And then she smirked at Anna. "In these heels?"

"Even better in those heels. Speaking of which …" Anna grinned and mimed lifting up her skirt.

Elsa laughed, but she did so. "They're the old ice heels," she said. "I … I didn't think the dress needed anything different."

"Elsa, Elsa, Elsa. One of these days, Marte and I have to sit you down and have a long conversation about footwear. But …" Anna leaned back, stroking her chin. "I will admit, ice dress, ice heels – they do go together."

Safely behind Anna's back, Marte rolled her eyes. Elsa giggled, covering her mouth with one hand.

"What?" Anna asked, looking from one of them to the other. "What's so—"

_Clang. Clang. Clang._

"… Oh dear," Anna squeaked. Even Marte was a little pale.

_Quarter to twelve._

Elsa gulped. "We—we should get going, Anna. Marte—thank you again."

"It's only my job, Elsa." She smiled slightly. "You do look lovely. I know—I know you're not looking forward to the next hour, but you'll look lovely throughout."

"Hear, hear," Anna said. She hooked her arm through Elsa's. "Ready, sis?"

Elsa took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "Not in the least," she admitted. "But there's no delaying it now."

* * *

_Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!_

Elsa took a deep breath and reached for Anna's hand in the moments before the door opened. "Ready?"

Anna sent a half-smile up at her. "You're going to be fine."

"Yeah." That was Kristoff, on Elsa's other side and slightly behind. He would be on the dais with them throughout, because Elsa refused to have him move too much with that crutch. "We're right behind you, you know. Literally, in my case."

Elsa smiled. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Guards—open the doors, please."

The double doors opened. Elsa opened her eyes and stepped into the sun, Anna by her side and Kristoff behind.

The crowd cheered.

Elsa had to blink away what felt like tears. _Cheering_. She was about to sentence traitors to their fate – and they were _cheering_. Was Anna's insanity that catching?

But there was a corner that wasn't cheering. Elsa's eyes went to it. It was a cluster of women, poor and shabby, huddled together as much against her as against the cold.

_The rebels' wives …_ She glanced at a few of the women who seemed much older than the rest. _And perhaps mothers?_ Elsa swallowed and took a deep breath. Those women would not be happy when she was finished. But … there was no help for it.

There was a second corner from whence no cheering came, but to the casual observer, that corner only held a pile of snow.

Elsa waved once to the crowd, only a tiny smile to acknowledge the cheers. She looked around for Nick but couldn't see him. Putting the thought out of her mind, she stomped once on the portico.

A dais of ice grew out from under her foot. There was a guard near Kristoff to grab him and steady him as the ice grew under his foot and crutch. The dais grew until it stopped about ten feet out from the portico.

Elsa walked forward, Anna still by her side. Another guard came forward, pushing a small throne before him. He stopped right behind Anna.

Elsa waved once more to the crowd. Then she closed her eyes and made a faint lifting motion with her hands. Without looking back, Elsa sat.

At just the right height, a throne of ice and snow rose up to greet her. The back was decorated with a snowflake whose points rose above her head like a crown. The seat and back were cushioned with blue ice-fabric stuffed with snow.

"Show-off," Anna muttered from the corner of her mouth as she took her own seat.

Elsa shot her a look that said, more clearly than words, _If this were not a formal occasion, you would have a snowball in your face right now._

Anna shot back a smirk that said, more clearly than words, _I know._

Something in that look made Elsa's heart lighten, but only a little. It made it easier to gather her courage around her. She held up her hand for silence.

She got it far sooner than she was expecting. Elsa swallowed and coughed once, pitching her voice to carry. In the cold, still air, it wasn't hard. "Ladies and gentlemen. I understand that many of you have come here with excellent reasons, to the sentences of the traitors handed down. I will not keep you waiting." She nodded to the guards by the gate. "Bring in the first prisoners."

The guards pushed the crowd back, and the group of thirty or so rebels was brought in.

They had been given warm cloaks and boots – Elsa had insisted on that. But beyond that, they were a pathetic lot, with their heads bowed and their hands and feet chained together. They walked with a slow, shuffling shamble, and none of them were brave enough to look up at Elsa.

A few of them looked at the corner with the waiting women.

The crowd's reaction was immediate. Jeers and boos sounded from all sides of the courtyard. Someone threw what looked like a snowball.

Elsa lifted her hand, and a wall of ice grew up from the cobblestones and intercepted the snowball. The hard _crack_ it made upon impact told everyone that there had been more than snow in that ball.

"That is enough!" Elsa commanded. "I understand, ladies and gentlemen, that you are upset. I am upset, too." _And none of them were pointing crossbows at _you_!_ "But this not the time or the place. We are Arendellians. We are better than this."

She straightened (if that were possible) and smoothed her skirts. "Gentlemen," she said, addressing the prisoners. "You have, all of you, admitted that you are guilty of treason and conspiracy. Your actions, admitted in exchange for leniency, state that you are guilty of vandalism one and all. All of you are accessories to arson and at least two attempted murders, the kidnapping of a member of the royal family, and a direct attempt to cause severe harm to the person of the Queen. I have every right to sentence you to death, one and all, for these actions.

"However," Elsa went on, not daring to look at the corner with the waiting women, "because you have admitted these actions, sparing the Crown the expense and scandal of a trial, you have evaded that penalty. You will now hear your sentence. But before I pronounce it, is there any man among you, empowered to speak for all, who wishes to make a plea before the Crown?"

There was a bit of shuffling. Finally one man came to the fore. "Gods—Gods save Your Majesty—I'd like to say a few words, if I may."

Elsa leaned forward, trying to see his face. At least it wasn't the man who had looked her up and down and sneered while suggesting that she be _thoroughly_ searched. Perhaps he had the sense to be hiding near the back.

This man was not one she recognized. She did not expect to be able to recognize him. With most of the men, she had been more focused upon the crossbows than the faces. "Please do," she said, leaning back and waving her permission.

"Your Majesty—we're—we're all just poor men here. Sailors and dockworkers, mostly. We made our living by the trade with Weselton, and when it stopped, well, our living was much harder to make. Most of us were afraid that if this went on, we wouldn't have enough to feed our families, or keep them warm over the winter. We were scared, Your Majesty, and we started lashing out because of it. We're—we're all awful sorry for what we've done. None of us expected it to go as far as it did."

The man looked back at his companions. "And—and that's all I've got to say, Your Majesty. We're sorry. If we were to do it over again, we wouldn't do it, we truly wouldn't."

Elsa steepled her fingers together, carefully weighing her next words. "I … certainly understand your motivations. As someone told me lately," she glanced at Anna with a faint hint of a smile, "people make bad choices when they're angry, frightened, or under too much pressure. Furthermore, I certainly can empathize with the feeling of being swept along by events outside of your control.

"However. Gentlemen, all you had options. You had families …" She allowed her eyes to slide to the waiting women. "You could have made the choice, at any point, to walk away when matters were getting dangerous."

There was much shuffling of feet (with requisite clanking of chains) and looking at the ground.

"I can empathize, gentlemen, I truly can. However, treason must be punished. Treason – arson – attempted murder – even the vandalism. I cannot let these crimes go. So I hereby sentence you," Elsa took a deep breath, "to a lifetime of hard labor."

Gasps throughout the courtyard. Only two people were silent, and both of them had known what the punishment was ahead of time.

The waiting women shuddered, and Elsa thought she heard a muffled sob.

"However, that being said, it will be possible for you men to reduce your sentences. After a period of ten years has passed, you will have the opportunity to appeal your sentence to the law courts and the Crown. If together we find that you have repented and grown from your crimes, then you will be released. Naturally, this is predicated on your good behavior throughout that period. If, however, we find that you have not grown and repented, then you will spend another five years at hard labor before you can make another appeal. And so on.

"Now, gentlemen …" Elsa caught her breath and held it. She had practiced alone in her room – she _thought_ she could do it – but it required a great deal of control, and when her emotions were riding high, control was not always her strong suit.

_You built an ice palace out of nothing. You can do this. You can _do_ this._

Elsa closed her hand in a fist, pictured what she wanted to be done, and opened her hand.

For a moment nothing happened. Then the men began to exclaim. In the next minutes, there were clangs and clanks and perhaps a few muffled curses as the locks to the shackles and chains popped, sending metal crashing to the ground (and some of the more hapless prisoners' feet).

Elsa made another gesture, and on each man's wrist appeared a bracelet of ice, each marked with a unique snowflake design. "Lest you have any thoughts of escaping. Everyone in Arendelle will know of these ice bracelets and what they signify. If you are found, you will be returned to the camp, and another ten years will be added to the time before you can appeal.

"However, that is assuming that you are found by a person. For … you have yet to meet your parole officer."

Elsa glanced at the pile of snow. "Marshmallow? You can stand up now."

The pile of snow rumbled. And then – to the gasps of all present – it unfolded itself into a thirty-foot-tall snowman. Who was wearing a crown.

Anna and Kristoff had seen Marshmallow before – _after_ he had thrown them off the cliff and they had more-or-less made up for that – but even they gasped.

Everyone gasped again when Marshmallow smiled and spoke. His voice held the rumble of mountains. "**Hello, Lady Elsa.**"

Elsa smiled back. "Hello, Marshmallow. I am glad to see you got down for the North Mountain without difficulty."

"**I knew you wanted me. So I came.**"

"And I thank you for that. I have a new task for you. Are you willing to stop guarding my ice palace?"

Marshmallow nodded. "**If that is your wish.**"

"Do you see these gentlemen?" Elsa gestured with her hand. "Have you heard what I said? How they did bad things, and how they must work for the Cr—for me now, to make up for them?"

Marshmallow nodded again. "**Yes, Lady Elsa.**"

"I want you to watch over these men while they do their work, to make sure that none escape. Can you do that for me?"

"**I can, Lady Elsa.**"

"Good. Thank you, Marshmallow."

Marshmallow nodded and smiled a toothless grin. Then he sat down and made himself comfortable, staring at the men, clearly ready to get to work.

"Now, gentlemen, as for the labor you will be doing." Elsa glanced behind her. "Master Bjorgman, Arendelle's Ice Master and Deliverer, will be explaining."

Kristoff slowly got to his feet (he had been given a chair while Elsa spoke) and made his way forward. Elsa had seen to it that he had a hobnailed crutch and boots for this very reason. "So. Men …" Kristoff swallowed.

Then—something changed. Something like fury came over his face. It wasn't quite the expression he had worn all of those months ago, when he had been about to beat Hans to a bloody pulp, but it was close. "Look, I'm not going to pretend I like having to put up with you lot for the next decade, all right? You made life hell for A—Princess Anna and the Queen. And setting the stables on fire, and making my sled crash, and kidnapping Olaf? I am not happy about any of those things either. But the Queen won't kill you, and you shouldn't get to spend the next however-many years lounging around, doing nothing, and having the people of Arendelle pay for you to be fed and housed and clothed. So you'll be working for the ice harvesters for the foreseeable future."

"Not ice harvesting," Anna interrupted. She turned to Kristoff and grinned. "That's a job for _trained professionals_."

A murmur arose from the crowd. Most ice harvesters were like Kristoff: loners who loved the mountains and who could only put up with people for so long. Their work was hard and dangerous, and it didn't pay well. _Trained professional_ was not what people thought of when they thought of an ice harvester.

If Anna had anything to say about it, that perception would soon be changing.

Kristoff was flushing and rubbed the back of his neck. "Um—right. Not ice harvesting, because I don't want to explain to the Queen – or to that guy – what happened if one of you falls through. But—well, there's always lots of work to do around the camp."

"Building cabins," Anna filled in. "Cooking. Loading the ice. Gathering firewood and minding the fires."

"Right, like that," Kristoff nodded. "And other things. You'll be doing that, so the ice harvesters can concentrate on … ice … harvesting …"

Kristoff glanced at Elsa, panicked, _What do I say now?_ written all over his face.

Elsa simply nodded and smiled. _You're doing fine._

"So—um, yeah, that's about it, really." Now it was Kristoff's turn to swallow. "You'll be fed well, and housed, and given clothes to keep warm. But don't expect a pleasant or easy time, because it won't be. And … yeah, that's it." He looked at Elsa. "E—Your Majesty, is there anything else you need me to say?"

Elsa shook her head. "You can dismiss the men, if you like."

"Right. Yeah. Great. Hey, Marsh—"

Kristoff made a face, the way he always did when he had to say Marshmallow's name. "Marshmallow?"

"**Yes, Master Kristoff?**"

"Can you bring this lot to Lake Vanna? It's on the other side of the North Mountain. You know where it is?"

Marshmallow nodded. "**I do. And I will. I will see you soon, Master Kristoff.**" Marshmallow looked at Anna. "**Hello, Lady Anna.**"

"Hi there, big guy! You can expect to be seeing a lot more of me, when I visit Kris—er, the Ice Master and Deliverer."

Marshmallow smiled another toothless grin. "**I look forward to it. I will see you all very soon.**"

He looked at the prisoners, and the smile was gone. "**Come now. We must go. Master Kristoff said so.**"

Shaking and looking behind them at the waiting women, the men slowly shuffled down the courtyard and out the open gates, Marshmallow bringing up the rear.

Elsa took a deep breath—but that was only the first thing she had to deal with today. She sat up again and waited while Kristoff resumed his seat. Once he had, she addressed the crowd again.

"Will the families of Master Roahl Ramussen and Master Knut Strand please step forward?"

Three women, who had been standing close together, stepped forward from one side of the courtyard. A single man stepped forward from other. All four of them slowly made their ways to the dais.

"Mistress Roahlsdatter, Mistress Roahlsdatter, and Mistress Roahlsdatter," Elsa said, nodding to each of the women in turn. The three women were married, but for Arendellian women, merely getting married was no reason to change their names. And Roahl Ramussen had been a stubborn man, too proud of his working-class roots to pick a surname for himself to pass on to his daughters.

Then Elsa turned to the man. "Master Strand." He looked to be about the same age as Knut, and was, according to Captain Vilmarsen's investigation, his cousin. However, he made his home in Hlind, a city farther down the coast. They had only been barely able to get him into town for this.

"As you are all aware, I have passed a bill of attainder against the estates of your father and cousin, respectively. My reasoning for this is thus: these men were undoubtedly the ringleaders of the treason and conspiracy this city has suffered through, Master Knut Strand by his own admission, and Master Ramussen by the testimony of the other men of the rebellion, and by what I witnessed myself. However, since both of these men are beyond the law's punishment, the Crown will be seizing their estates in order to pay for the damages they caused.

"These damages are, unfortunately, rather extensive. There has been a veritable wave of vandalism across town. Individual property owners will be compensated for this, and repairs to Crown property will be paid for from these men's estates. This includes the rebuilding of the palace stables," Elsa continued, gesturing to where the stables had once stood.

"More importantly than the property damage, these men's actions directly resulted in the injury of three men: Sergeant Frans Aagesen of the Palace Guard; Master Kristoff Bjorgman, Arendelle's Ice Master and Deliver; and Master Soren Njalsen, sometime a stable hand in the employ of the palace. These men will be compensated for their injuries, both to pay for ongoing medical care and to make up for any wages they may have lost from the time they were unable to work. They will also be paid the following sums in recognition of the pain they have suffered."

Elsa named the sums. Sergeant Aagesen's was the smallest – he was, after all, paid to put his life at risk for the royal family, and his injuries had been the least severe. Kristoff's was in the middle, and Elsa didn't need to turn around to know he wasn't happy about this. But she couldn't very well leave Kristoff out, no matter how much he protested that he had already received far too much from the royal family.

Soren's was by far the largest – fitting, since Elsa wasn't sure that it would be a good idea for him to return to work again. She intended to see to it that he had enough to see him through a comfortable and, gods willing, long retirement, while still leaving a tidy dowry for Marte.

Elsa permitted herself to look for Marte and Soren in the crowd. She found them easily – Soren was leaning against Marte, jaw agape, and Marte was quietly weeping. Elsa managed a small smile.

Then she turned again to the Roahlsdatters and the other Master Strand. "There will also be a fine levied against the estates. However, should anything be left over after these expenses are paid, the remainder will be turned over and divided according to Master Ramussen and Master Strand's wills.

The Roahlsdatters looked pleased, relieved, and gratified all at once. But Master Strand coughed. "For—forgive me, Your Majesty, but—please, keep the estate for the Crown. I am fortunate enough to earn a good living, to keep myself and my wife and children in all comfort. I need nothing more, and I certainly do not want money that has been sullied by treason. Please, keep it and put it to good use."

Elsa's jaw fell. "I—" She stopped.

What could she say?

"That—that is very generous of you, Master Strand. And it is by no means required," Elsa hurried to say. "I should—I should make clear, that though a bill of attainder has been passed against these men's estates, I wish for the corruption of blood to stop there. There is not one shred of evidence that any of you standing before me, or any other of your relations, had the least idea of the treason that these late men contemplated and accomplished. Although it is necessary to seize the estates of these men in order to pay for the wrong they have done, once that is accomplished, the Crown has no further need of the money. It certainly has no need to punish the innocent."

"All the same, Your Majesty, I do not want the money. Should it come to me, I shall donate it to a worthy charity." Master Strand straightened his greatcoat. "Let the Crown keep it, and use it to complete some project that will do us all good."

"I—thank you, Master Strand. The Crown thanks you," was all Elsa could think to say.

"And so do the taxpayers!" Anna chimed in, and that got a laugh from the crowd.

Elsa glanced at the Roahlsdatters, who were exchanging glances that could speak more than words – a form of communication she wished she could truly master with Anna, though they were getting there. "Your—Your Majesty," said the daughter who Elsa guessed was the eldest, "my sisters and I—we are in agreement with Master Strand. Please, keep the money, if there is any left over."

_There might not be,_ Elsa thought. Knut strand's estate had been in excellent shape – Roahl's, not so much.

But Elsa nodded all the same. "Thank you, ladies. The Crown thanks you …" Elsa turned to Anna with a shadow of a smile. "And so do the taxpayers."

The laugh wasn't as loud this time. But it was still there. Elsa's smile became a little more real.

However, knowing what was coming next, it was wiped away. "That being said, is there anything further you wish to say?"

Four heads shook at her. Elsa nodded. "Then I thank you for taking the time to come to this summons. Remember, though your relatives have committed treason, the Crown holds you innocent in all of this – and I expect nothing less from Arendelle's people."

Elsa looked to the corner where the waiting women were still huddled. "That holds true for _all_ of the men sentenced on this day."

_And speaking of which …_ Elsa gulped and looked to the gate. "That being said … there is still one more sentence to be handed down. Guards, please bring forth Master Hans Westergaard, sometime Prince of the Southern Isles."

As the Roahlsdatters and Master Strand melted back into the crowd, Hans came in.

He was back in the uniform he had worn when he first arrived in Arendelle last summer – white jacket, blue trousers, blue waistcoat, and purple cravat. And gloves, white gloves as always. They made Elsa's hands feel naked and … almost cold.

_No. I am not that person anymore._

Hans walked with his back perfectly straight and a faint smile on his lips. One might have thought that the guards surrounding him were there to protect a prince, not stop a prisoner from escaping.

At least, one might have thought that until one noticed the shackles.

There was a stir in the crowd. But no jeers. No boos. The crowd even seemed to edge back a little, afraid – but of what? Hans? The guards? Elsa?

Elsa took a deep breath, folded her hands on her lap, and forced herself to watch Hans with the icy, regal mask fully in place. "Master Westergaard. You have been found guilty in a court of law of two counts of attempted murder and one of treason. Have you anything to say before I hand down your sentence?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I wish … I wish to say …" He sighed. "Did it have to go this far?"

Elsa's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. _He's not._

"I understand … I understand that you cannot admit to your people what truly happened out on the ice that day. You must rule them. You cannot let them know how low you sunk. But Your Majesty – what have I ever done to you that I should be treated like this?

"And Princess Anna," Hans went on, turning to her, "what have I done to you that would cause you to tell such—"

"NO!"

For a second Elsa was not sure if she spoke the word aloud or if only her heart cried out. But the shocked stares – and the ice spikes growing along the edges of the dais – left little room for doubt.

"No," Elsa said again, rising in a fluid motion and walking to the end of the dais. The air grew colder, and clouds seemed to roll in out of nowhere. "You will _not_ address her. You will not even _look_ at her. You have done enough to her for a thousand lifetimes, Hans, and I will _not_ let you hurt her any further!"

Elsa heard the gasps and the exclamations. She heard the shuffling of feet. But she only had eyes for Hans.

"Elsa," came a whispered voice—and then a mittened hand on her elbow. "It's ok, sis. He can't hurt me anymore." A pause, then, "Elsa, look at me."

Elsa turned and saw Anna staring at her with a quirked eyebrow that couldn't mask the concern in her eyes. "It's ok."

"No," Elsa answered. "No, it is not _ok_. It is not by any stretch of the _imagination_—"

"Elsa—"

"_I should have protected you_!"

The ice spikes grew taller.

Elsa forced herself to control her voice, even if her heart was pounding and the ice was rising up in her, itching to escape even more than it already had. "He never should have been allowed to get so close. He shouldn't have – there shouldn't have been an opening for him. Not—not at my coronation, not in _that room_, not …"

Elsa turned to Hans, more pieces clicking into place.

"I should have protected everyone better. My people. N—my guards. _Olaf_. I should have _never_ allowed a—a madman and a monster like you within five hundred leagues of them!"

Elsa started toward Hans, stairs appearing under her feet where she needed them to be. Ice spikes grew up on either side of her. She could hear Anna following.

"And now you," Elsa strode forward, something in her gait or her expression or perhaps the ice spikes making even the guards look nervous, "you _dare_ to come before me and pretend to be _innocent_?"

She was inches from his face. Hans finally took a step back.

"Do you see what you have before you, people of Arendelle?" Hans called. "Do you see what she is capable of doing? Look! You call that a Queen? She's not even human!"

"Hey!" Anna shouted, trying to shove her way past Elsa. "You don't get to say that about—"

"Our QUEEN!" came a shout from the crowd.

"Aye! Our Queen!"

"Our Queen who went after you all by herself to rescue a _snowman_! Just a little snowman! Can you imagine what she'd do if it was one of _us_ in danger?"

"And stop lying, you great fool!" came another shout. "Everyone saw what you did! The Princess saw it, the ice man saw it – the snowman saw it – the bloody _reindeer_ saw it!"

"And the jury saw it too!"

Elsa watched as Hans's eyes darted from side to side. She could practically see the gears turning in his head.

She hadn't time to wait for them to stop turning. She straightened, took a deep breath, and noticed that her hands were balled into fists. She released them.

The ice spikes vanished.

Hans took a startled step back.

"I am not that frightened girl you found on the North Mountain anymore, Hans," Elsa said. "You cannot control me with words so easily. I know what you are, and more importantly, I know what I am. And what's more …"

She stepped back herself, hooking her arm through Anna's and gesturing to the people with her free hand. "So do my people!"

The cheer that leapt up shook the very foundations of the castle walls.

"So here is what I have to say to you, Hans," Elsa said, straightening and looking him in the eye. "You came to this land intending to capture it for your own. You would have wooed me if I would have let you. Instead, you chose to prey on my sister. No matter what happened – eternal winters, vanishing queens and princesses, thirty-foot-tall snowmen – you kept your eyes on that prize. Your ambition led you to break my sister's heart, lock her in a room, and leave her to die." Elsa put her arm around Anna's shoulder. "You followed me onto the ice, disarmed me with words, and tried to kill me. If it had not been for my brave sister …"

Elsa turned to Anna with tears standing in her eyes. The smile Anna turned back up at her was every bit as teary. That gave Elsa the courage she needed to turn to him and continue to speak. "We would have both been dead, and the gods only know what 'King Hans' would have proceeded to do to Arendelle.

"But none of that happened. And in light of the extraordinary situation in which we all found ourselves …" Elsa raised her head. "I showed mercy on you, Hans. I sent you back to the Southern Isles."

"You call that _mercy_?" Hans shouted. "Sending me back there?"

"I would have been justified in imprisoning you, at the very least," Elsa replied. "I probably could have gotten away with killing you. But I thought you deserved a second chance."

"And a fat lot of good it did me!" Hans fired back.

Elsa blinked.

Then, "No, Hans. You have no one to blame but yourself for the position you are in right now."

"Are you _jesting_? E—Queen Elsa—"

"No. Silence. _Listen to me_," Elsa snapped. "I can forgive you for your escape attempt, having had to escape prison myself. I can forgive you for trying to flee the country. But the way you did it?"

Elsa shook her head. "You are a clever man, Hans, we all know that. So your first thought was to break into my castle—threaten my _sister_—and threaten me as well? And when I didn't accede to your demands, you did your best to kill or gravely injure a man who had never injured you? And then—"

Elsa's hand was started to shake. Ice spikes, tiny ones, started to grow around her. They were thickest and tallest between Hans and Anna.

"You broke into the palace—_again_. You attempted to harm another person. You _did_ kidnap Olaf, an innocent snowman with the heart of a child. But that wasn't what you were trying to do, was it?" Elsa asked.

"_YOU WERE TRYING TO KIDNAP ANNA!_"

Her shout rang through the courtyard. It might have rung through the city. It might have run clear across the fjord, all the way to her palace on the North Mountain and back again.

It certainly caused complete silence to fall over the courtyard.

"And that is why I must sentence you as I will," Elsa said. "Because I can see now that it does not matter how I treat you or how I do not treat you. It does not matter what you say. As long as there is breath in your body, you will try to harm my sister and me. Through us, you will try to harm Arendelle – or you will try to harm Arendelle to harm us. To be honest, I am not sure how much of a difference there is in your mind."

So Elsa tilted her chin up, let her nostrils flare, and spoke in her most queenly voice. "Master Hans Westergaard, sometime Prince of the Southern Isles, you have been found guilty in a court of law for the crimes of treason and attempted murder. Furthermore, while you were on trial, you were guilty of escape, threatening the person of the Queen – treason again – the attempted murder of Kristoff Bjorgman, the attempted kidnapping of Princess Anna of Arendelle, the actual kidnapping of Olaf the snowman, and yet more threatening of my person. So for these crimes, and any others I may have forgotten to mention – for your crimes are _that legion_, Master Westergaard – I sentence you to death by beheading, the sentence to be carried out immediately." She nodded to the guards. "Take the prisoner to the town square and carry out the sentence."

"What? No! No! You will—you will _hear me_!" Hans shouted, fighting his way loose from the guards.

Elsa pushed Anna behind her and stood with her hands raised, ready to shoot ice.

Hans stopped. He looked at the guards, the crowds, and Elsa. "I will not protest my sentence. I will go quietly. But _not_ until I have said what I have to say. You—" Hans pointed to Elsa, "You are a monster. You are about to send a Prince of the blood to his death—like a common criminal. Everyone in the continent will know what you have done. And they will know you for what you are. My blood will not need to cry out for vengeance – the royalty of the continent will do it for me."

Elsa shook her head. "That is where you are wrong, Hans. That is where you are always wrong."

He smirked, just a little. "Well, we shall see, shall we? Or should I say—you shall see. And wherever I am—I shall watch, and I shall relish the day I see you fall."

"If that thought is what comforts you now, then keep it," Elsa shrugged. "I won't take it from you. Guards! Take this man away."

The guards roughly grabbed Hans's shoulders, but he shook them off, instead turning and marching toward the gates of his own volition, walking like a martyr ready to face the end with nothing but courage and dignity.

"Good gods," Anna muttered. Elsa turned and saw her sister rolling her eyes. "Does he ever stop?"

Elsa managed a small smile, but that was all she could do before she held open her arms and gathered Anna into them. "Are you all right?" she whispered.

"I'm fine. You?" She leaned back. "You really gave it to him."

Slowly, Elsa nodded. "I'm fine." She squeezed Anna a little closer. "It's over now. I'm just fine."

* * *

**Exit Hans, unfortunately not pursued by bear. Though Kristoff might come close if he gets pissed enough.**

**I want to say thank you to all of my fantastic reviewers: Lindstrom, taylorjago, TheHumanCanvas, RJCA27, homers8736, CrunchDeNumbers, and Ella Burrows! And even you, Guest. I'm sure you hated this chapter. I'm so sorry about that. (BTW, regarding Hans being able to be tried/punished for treason, even if he's a foreign national: see Chapter 14.)**

**However, as for the rest of you, THANK YOU for all of your kind words. Reviews are food for a writer's soul, so keep 'em coming!**

**Only one chapter (which will be the epilogue) to go! See you next time! :)**


	32. Epilogue: A Chance to Find True Love

Epilogue: A Chance to Find True Love

"ELSA! Elsa, wake up! It's the first day of spring!"

Slowly, Elsa blinked herself awake. The pink light of dawn was already starting to filter through the curtains. She didn't need to look at her clock to know it was six-thirty, or close to it.

She smiled.

"Isn't it great?" asked Olaf, bouncing off the bed now that he could see that Elsa was awake. He ran to the window and threw open the curtain. "The whole world is now—"

He stopped, frowning as he looked outside. "Oh. It looks the same as it did yesterday …"

A laugh – Marte's. "Well, of course, little fellow! Spring doesn't come all at once. It sneaks up on you, gradually, until one minute you look around …"

"And winter is gone," Elsa finished for her, "and spring has come again." She sat up and stretched. "Good morning, Marte. And Olaf."

"Good morning, Elsa. I've had a bath drawn already. Are you ready to get up?"

Elsa grinned, thinking of the day she and Anna had planned. "Oh, yes. I'm _very_ ready."

Elsa hummed throughout her morning bath, dressing, getting her hair done, and even breakfast. And why not? Today was going to be a glorious day! She had put royal business aside, and she was going to celebrate the spring with some of the people who mattered most to her.

Anna. Kristoff. Olaf. Sven.

And Nick.

So as soon as she was ready, she took Olaf's hand and the two of them hurried through the castle corridors. Already, in Elsa's mind, the scent of spring was in the air. The light seemed brighter. The castle windows looked like they had already been cleaned (though Elsa knew for a fact that outdoor cleaning wouldn't happen for weeks yet). The air smelled fresh and new again, and they hadn't even gone outside yet.

_After such a winter …_ Elsa thought, but she shook her head. It was over now, all of it. Hans was dead, she had seen the act done with her own eyes, and even though the thought of all the blood still made her stomach roil, she hadn't had a single nightmare. The former rebels were helping in the ice harvesting camps around Lake Vanna, and production had increased already. And just yesterday, Elsa had signed the new treaty with Weselton. Although the first ships wouldn't leave the ports for another week or two yet, trade had officially resumed.

After such a winter, it was about time for spring.

Her mood was so jubilant that she didn't even let her smile falter when she opened the large front doors to the castle and immediately happened upon an argument in the courtyard.

"I don't care what you say, Kristoff, you are not driving with that leg!" Anna huffed. She was tightening Sven's harness. Kristoff was standing right behind her, leaning on the crutch.

"Anna. I'm just _driving_. Sitting in the front, holding the reins. It is not that big a deal," Kristoff replied. As soon as Anna finished the knot she was working on and moved to the next, Kristoff went to the tie she had just finished and began to redo it. "It's not like I'm pulling the sled with Sven."

"Doctor Spillum said you were supposed to be careful."

"I'm injured, Anna, not dead!"

"Exactly, and I'd like to keep you that way!"

"What? Injured? Or not dead?"

"Keep this up, mister, and it'll be—" Anna turned to Kristoff and saw what he was doing. "_Kristoff_!"

"What? … Oh," he said, seeing that she was staring at his hands. "Um—I know how Sven likes his harness, is all. Right, Sven?"

Sven looked once at Kristoff and then slowly shook his head. Even to Elsa, the implication was clear: _You're on your own for this one, buddy._

Standing off to the side, Nick was doing the same thing.

"Hi, everybody!" called Olaf. He let go of Elsa's hand and scampering off to give warm hugs. Elsa followed more slowly and somehow ended up at Nick's side.

"Good morning," Elsa murmured, leaning in for a quick, chaste peck on the cheek. Nick took the opportunity to put his arm around her waist, and Elsa inched closer. "How long have those two been at it?"

"Ever since Sven was brought in," Nick replied, "which would be …" He took out his pocket watch. "A quarter of an hour, I believe."

"You have my sympathies," Elsa replied.

"No—you have _mine_." Nick held her a little closer. "So are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"Nope," Elsa smiled. "It's a _surprise_."

"Ah. Am I to be blindfolded the whole way there, then?"

"No," Elsa giggled. "It's a surprise, not a kidnapping."

"Good to know."

Together they stood, leaning together, and watched as Anna and Kristoff bickered their way through harnessing Sven. When it was over, somehow Kristoff was the one who climbed into the driver's seat and took the reins.

"If you feel so much as one twinge," Anna said, taking the seat next to him as Elsa, Nick, and Olaf climbed into the back row of seats, "I'm taking over."

"Anna, I'm not even using my leg. I'll be fine. Trust me."

"One twinge," was all Anna would say in reply.

Elsa was fairly certain that everyone in the sled – except Olaf – rolled their eyes at that. But it wasn't long before Kristoff had tapped the reins on Sven's back. "Yah!"

They were off.

They only made it across the causeway before Kristoff turned toward the docks. "Elsa? You're playing navigator from here on out."

"Gladly." Elsa took a deep breath and lifted her hands. "If the two of you would …"

Kristoff and Anna scooted out of the way.

Elsa took a deep breath, centered herself, and made a sweeping motion with one arm. Before them, a path of ice wound down the docks and over the fjord. Elsa snapped her fingers and a thick coating of snow appeared, giving Sven plenty of traction and the sled a smooth surface to glide upon.

Elsa sat back, trying not to watch as Nick's jaw fell. "Follow the snowy white road."

"… Ok, then. You heard the lady, Sven!" Kristoff tapped the reins, and they were off again.

The trip down the path Elsa had made was swift and easy. Elsa only turned back twice, once to vanish the path from the docks, and a second time to wave it away from the fjord entirely. She smiled a little in relief when it went away so easily.

Nick watched her face. "Are you going to tell me where we're going now?"

"No," Elsa replied. "It's still a surprise."

"I see." Nick wordlessly raised his arm, and even though Olaf had been sitting in the middle, Elsa didn't hesitate before putting him on her lap and snuggling closer.

"Aww, a group hug!" sighed Olaf, leaning against Elsa and Nick both. He must have been freezing to Nick, but Nick didn't say a thing.

The ride into the mountains was calm and peaceful – so much so that Elsa might have fallen asleep if she hadn't had to give directions. Even if the crises of the winter were largely over, sleep was still something that Elsa sensed she never got quite enough of.

But as they climbed ever higher, something in the air woke her up. Maybe it was the scent of the pines, though it wasn't long before they were beyond the tree line. Maybe it was the smell of the snow that never melted. Maybe it was the mountain air itself.

Whatever it was, it made Elsa sit up and pay a bit more attention to her surroundings. They were getting close. Very close.

Soon they were past the point where a sled should have been useful, but with Elsa around, that was no problem. She simply created a road of ice and hard-packed snow to where they needed to go. The rocks rose up around them, black and jagged except for where they were softened by a blanket of snow.

They were almost there.

Finally they were climbing up the last hill that led to their destination. One more turn, and then they would arrive. Elsa took a deep breath and held it.

Slowly, she reached across and grabbed Nick's hand. When she thought it was safe, she turned to watch him.

She wanted – she _needed_ – to see his face as they made that final turn.

She wasn't disappointed.

Nick's face changed. First he blinked, once, twice. He took off his spectacles, cleaned them, and put them back on again.

Then his jaw fell. He leaned forward, staring around Anna's head. Finally, he gasped.

Then he broke his gaze only to stare at Elsa. "You … you …"

Elsa shrugged. "I made it?"

"Elsa …" Nick turned away to stare again. Elsa looked too.

The ice palace rose, glowing and majestic in the early spring sun. It glittered with every passing sunbeam. In that moment, it was a palace of light as much as it was a palace of ice.

"If you want to cry," Anna said, scooting a little closer to Kristoff, "go right ahead. Nobody here will judge."

"… I think I might …" Nick whispered, staring up, up to the tallest part of the spire. "Elsa, you … you _made_ this?"

Not trusting herself to speak, Elsa nodded.

"… Can I ask how?"

"… Have you ever heard of fractals?" Elsa murmured.

Nick stared at her. "Koch's snowflake?"

Elsa nodded eagerly. "That—that was my starting point—although obviously that wasn't going to get me very far," Elsa laughed, "so I moved into an L-system."

Nick looked back to the ice palace. "I see … that make sense …"

"Really? Because Elsa's tried to explain it to me at _least_ three times and I've never gotten it," Anna answered. "Did that help you, Kristoff?"

The only answer they got was a nose being blown, loudly.

Anna patted his shoulder, looked behind, and winked. _He always gets like this,_ she mouthed to Nick.

Nick just nodded.

"So are we going to go inside?" asked Olaf, looking from Elsa to Anna to Nick. "I know that Marshmallow's not here, but we can still go inside!"

Elsa looked to Nick. Nick's jaw had fallen again, and he was looking at the staircase up. "We can go … inside?"

"Well, _we_ can't," Anna said.

"I'm not making it up those stairs with this leg," Kristoff added apologetically.

"But _you three_ can," Anna added with a wicked grin.

_Three?_ Elsa mouthed at Anna.

_Chaperone! _Anna mouthed back, eyelashes fluttering innocently.

Elsa rolled her eyes, but she knew she would get nowhere by arguing, so she didn't argue.

"Do—do you want to go in, Nick?" she asked.

Nick's awestruck expression told her all she needed to know.

Elsa took his hand and put Olaf down on the ground. Together, they climbed out of the sled and up to the long, icy staircase.

Their progress was slow – Olaf made it up in half the time, because Nick had to keep stopping and looking all around him, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then he would look at Elsa and just smile.

Finally they made it to the doors, which opened without Elsa even needing to touch them.

She let go of Nick's hand as they made their way into the castle. Nick had to walk slowly, looking all around with an expression of unadulterated awe. Elsa stood by the door, holding her breath, hands folded in front of her.

Today the ice palace was serene and blue, just as it had been when she had built it. There were no angry purples or reds in the walls. The fountain stood in the middle, frozen in perfection, just as it always had. The stairs crisscrossed above them, a never-ending maze to the upper floors.

"How … how many _rooms_ …" Nick finally asked.

"Not as many as you would think. I …" Elsa shrugged. "I wasn't here long, last summer. Not even two whole days." She slowly walked up to him, took her place beside him. "I thought I'd have a long time to decorate and play …"

Nick swallowed and put his arm around her shoulders. "This – this is where Westergaard and … and my uncle's men found you, isn't it?"

Elsa nodded. "Yes. I—I could show you the room—it's all cleaned up now, but …" She closed her eyes and shook her head. "The past is in the past."

"I'm glad," was all Nick said in reply.

For a long moment they stood there, looking up and around them. She heard Nick swallow and felt his grip on her tighten for a moment. "Elsa—it's beautiful," he finally said. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"More beautiful than Saturn?" Elsa teased.

Nick didn't take it as a tease. He turned to her, eyes dark and unreadable.

"… Yes."

And then he kissed her.

Elsa moaned deep in the back of her throat when his lips caressed hers – and then her arms were around his neck, and she was pressing closer, pulling deeper, mind and body given over completely to this moment. Her heart pounded and fireworks exploded behind her eyes.

_Love will thaw._ It wasn't just her ice. In fact, luckily for both of them, in this case her ice didn't thaw at all. But her heart did. Her mind did. It didn't matter that it was only barely technically spring and that they were in the part of the mountains where winter never really left.

Elsa had never felt so warm in her life.

"Um … guys?" came a voice intruding on her personal paradise. "… Guys?"

Finally pulled away from each other, but only enough to breathe again. Elsa blinked and forced herself to remember that Olaf was standing right there. "Yes, little buddy?"

"Are we going to explore?" he asked with a big, hopeful smile. "Nick hasn't seen anything yet!"

Elsa looked up to Nick. "Well?"

In answer, he pulled away, but only so he could reach one of her hands to take it. "Lead the way, my Queen."

Elsa grinned and suited the action to the word.

Up and down the steps they went, looking in at the few rooms Elsa had made: the dining room, the sitting room, the room that would have been a library if Elsa had any books to put in it. They even went into the room that Elsa thought of as the heart of her ice palace, where she had stood when she built it, and the room that even now was most in tune with her moods. Yes, there had once been a horrible fight in there – but not so much as a shard of ice remained from _that day_. Even the chandelier had been restored and hung pure and perfect in the center of the room.

It was, in short, everything she had always wanted it to be.

And so was Nick. He gasped, he exclaimed in all the right places. The look of awe never quite left his face. And when he turned to look at her, it only deepened.

Finally they made it back to the beginning again, where Olaf was skating and twirling on the ice. "Well!" Elsa said, taking a deep breath and trying to think of what to say next.

"Thank you," Nick said.

"I—wait, what?"

"Thank you," Nick repeated. "For … for letting me see this. For letting me …"

He took her hand in his, kissed it, and put it gently over Elsa's heart. "For letting me in."

Elsa swallowed, ducking her head. "Thank you," was all she would say in reply.

Nick kissed her cheek and folded her close without another word.

They stood there for a long moment, no sound but their breath, perfectly in tune with each other's. Finally Elsa looked up. "We … we should go back out. Somebody needs to have a care for my sister's reputation."

"You don't trust Kristoff with her?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I trust _Kristoff_," Elsa waved her hand. "It's Anna I worry about."

"Ah. Well, in that case." He brought her hand down. "Shall we?"

"We shall," Elsa replied. "Olaf? We're going back to see Anna and Kristoff now."

"All right! Do you think it's time for lunch?" Olaf asked.

Elsa chuckled. For someone who didn't eat, Olaf did tend to get excited about meals. "I think it's about that time."

"Yay!" cried Olaf as he scampered to the door.

Elsa looked up at Nick and smiled. Nick smiled back.

Out they went, hand-in-hand with Olaf skipping before them, into the bright spring of endless possibilities.

* * *

**And that is IT, my friends! Well, except for the credits, which are in the next chapter. However, I do want to thank my reviewers for last chapter before moving on to that. So thank you Ryu Kitsune Bard84, covsoc, Batman1809, tim green 5, bandgeek63, LadybugTamer, Lindstrom, Jacob Flores, both Guests, CrunchDeNumbers, TheHumanCanvas, Penmaster1547, and newbie Soubrettina!**

**Thank you ALL for sticking with this story for so long.**

**Now, onto the credits!**


	33. End Credits

**End Credits**

This is the part where I say a big ol' honkin' **THANK YOU** to all of the people who helped me with this story.

The first is Steph. You probably don't know Steph, because as far as I know, she doesn't have an account on FFNet or Tumblr. But she's been my beta and my buddy for thirteen years now. I have her to thank for reading everything over first, for helping me iron out plot points, for letting me babble for hours, and for answering all of my questions about anxiety disorder and sociopaths, so that I could begin to do Elsa and Hans (respectively) justice. Without her, Winter of Discontent would have never existed.

So, THANK YOU STEPH!

Next up, I want to thank my Tumblr buddies: junemermaid03, searlait, iklachomzwaartekracht, tangledupinmyfrozengeniussweater, punzelanna, karis-the-fangirl, and ladybugtamer. Thanks for the signal boosts and the words of encouragement, especially during my little crisis of confidence last week. And thanks for putting up with the endless reblogs from fashions from history, too. ;)

Now, thank you to all of my reviewers:

KP009

CrunchDeNumbers (been reviewing since CHAPTER TWO, people! Crunch, you get extra-special thanks!)

Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714

RJCA27

aidan bale

Batman1809

bagofpopcorn

Ryu Kitsune Bard84

Jacob Flores

Ehecatl

WinterKnight2104

bandgeek63

stillslightlynerdy

LinesoftheLost112

homers8736

El Trombonisto

blunaowl

JuneMermaid03

TheHumanCanvas

tim green 5 (I have to get rid of the periods in your username or else Tumblr will eat it, sorry!)

Seth Green

covsoc

tyler werner 507

fnaticz

magiclover13

DisneyandWildKrattfangirl

Penmaster1547

against a sea of troubles

taylorjago

Julie Horwitz

Darthtraytus

GLB

Weldon Kenfield

LadybugTamer

Barend von Eck

Symphonic Madness

Ella Burrows

Soubrettina

And all of the Guests. Even the one who gave me a crisis of confidence, because if you're not having at least one crisis of confidence while you're writing, you must be doing something wrong.

I also want to thank everyone who favorited this story – all 56 of you – and everyone who follows this story – all 76 of you. However, I'm not going to make you all read through all of those names. ;)

And lastly, I want to thank YOU. Yes, you! Even if I thanked you above, sometimes more than once! Without you reading, following, favoriting, reviewing, or even just coming back to read it, this story would only really exist in my head, and that wouldn't be any fun at all!

So – THANK YOU!

_And keep watching this space – once I'm ready to start posting the sequel (yes, I said sequel!) I will upload a brief stinger/preview to Winter!_


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